Vagrants MC
by delena1997
Summary: Born and raised in Phoenix, Damon Salvatore has everything he needs to lead his father's M.C., the Vagrants; the thirst for danger every young man has and a shining motorbike ready to lead a shining city. But cue a girl, arriving amid a cloud of flame with trouble on her tail, can Damon step up and deliver what is expected when the Vagrants are threatened?
1. Prologue

Damon Salvatore was a biker.

Born and raised in Phoenix, Arizona into one of the most prestigious motorcycle clubs he had everything it took – the bike, the contacts and the drive – to become one of the most notorious bikers of the Arizona region, like his father had been years before him. Clad in leather, he was set to take up his father's post as President and over take Vegas in wealth and power.

Phoenix Vagrants M.C is one of the most notorious and awed biker chapters of the Vagrants club, which stretches from Washington to Chicago, creating a vicious belt of power, war and the roar of a bike across much of North America. It is second in wealth and power only to the Vegas chapter only three hundred miles north west. Both chapters are caught at logger-heads. Each unable to rise above the other completely, but neither can outrank or stomach the idea of an alliance.

Giuseppe Salvatore was the ruthless president of Phoenix V.M.C, holding power over most every president well over a five hundred mile radius of Arizona, including that of the Vegas, Dallas and Los Angeles chapters. Grayson Gilbert, otherwise known as Boots was Giuseppe's second-in-command. Without family at risk he was the one who had enemies. Enemies with a personal vengeance against both the Vagrants and Boots himself. His wife, for all intensive purposes, fled the biker community after she fell pregnant, and Grayson, fearing for both their lives kept them hidden from all except Giuseppe.

Damon was everything Giuseppe could have hoped for. Powerful, driven, charming. With the Vagrants falling victim to war outside the club and Giuseppe nearing the time when he should step down the Phoenix chapter needed someone determined to step up and keep them in check.

Damon loved his bike. He loved the roar of the engine and the feeling of freedom as he coasted down the highway with the sun warming his back. He loved the runs he went on and the atmosphere in the clubhouse. He had everything any twenty-five year old man could want for. Girls find the lure of motorbikes and danger irresistible and for the past eight years he'd grown into a man comfortably, with his father leading the way.

He may love the bikes, and the Vagrants but he wasn't his father. He couldn't become a cold-hearted killer, infamous for the murders and incidents surrounding Phoenix V.M.C. He couldn't be like his father, but when it came down to it, that was who he was.

* * *

Elena knew who she was. She knew her past and she knew her roots. She knew her family and what she could be. She knew she had the kind of legacy you only read about in book. There was the irresistible lure of danger and excitement. Of being something new and brilliant and fiery.

Elena was a Gilbert down to her blood. Though that meant nothing to most people to her and to those who knew it was held in the same respect as those people you hear about on the news and read about in magazines.

She knew everything about herself, about her mother and about her legacy but she did not know her father.

She understood why, he had enemies. Enemies more dangerous than she cared to get involved with and he would rather sacrifice his relationship with his only child than have her sacrifice her life.

They had met of course, rarely, in passing. On one of the few runs she had attended and a few times when he came to her L.A home.

Grayson Gilbert was her father, yes, but that did not mean anything more than words to her. He had chosen to stay with the Vagrants in Phoenix and leave her mother, and his wife to raise a small child alone.

She had had a regular upbringing and for that she was grateful. She had been raised away from the clubhouse and away from the politics of the warring chapters. Her childhood was normal, she'd had regular friends who had two parents and maybe a pet. She could invite them home and talk about boys like any other fourteen year old girl but the second she turned eighteen she began wishing for something more.

No matter how hard she tried to pretend she wasn't, she knew she was a Gilbert. Her father was vice president of the Phoenix chapter of the Vagrants M.C. Her father's best friend was Giuseppe Salvatore, notorious president with unmistakable power. He had contacts everywhere. In every business, every police station, every law firm. The Vagrants were seeded throughout most of North America, viciously warring with rival gangs while forming desperate alliances with those with useful assets.

Miranda, her mother had sacrificed everything she had known to keep them both safe. Her life had been with Grayson and the Vagrants, living comfortably in the royalty of the chapter, held a step above the rest.

She had never been forgotten, nor had Elena. Grayson hoped they would return, or Elena would find her way back. He had bought her her first leather jacket when she was a baby and had insisted on purchasing a Kawasaki for her on eighteenth.

Grayson's subtle prompts wouldn't have been necessary. The leather and the helmets and the bikes just made it easier, but by the time she was twenty-two, riding her newly received Harley-Davidson Sportster she was certain. She knew who she was.

She was Elena Gilbert and she was a biker, right down to her blood.

* * *

_Just a short prologue introducing blah blah blah. Do you guyses like? I know I said badass Damon so don't worry, he'll toughen up. _

_I sincerely apologise for the atrocious title but honestly? Honestly I couldn't think of anything better/remotely creative. Any ideas, suggestions would be muchly appreciated. Let me know what you think of this, I need to know how many people like this and how fast I should update._

_Also, to anyone interested in beta reading this story: shoot me a message, yeah? _

_lol, sorry this is very short but i wanted to start of a little differently and get some of the background clear before starting properly._

_Roughly inspired by Brigands M.C by Robert Muchamore... well not really. Just the bikes and the whole biker genre... yeaaaaah_


	2. Arrivals

"Elena?" her mum called up to her. "Come here a minute."

Elena rolled her eyes and paused her music, not happy about the interruption. She had an essay due for one of her pointless courses and was already behind on finishing. As usual.

"What's up, Mum?" she said irritated as she walked downstairs, stopping short at the glance of an unfamiliar van in the driveway. "Mum?" she called as she walking into the lounge.

The stopped dead in her tracks at the man sitting opposite her mother on the sofa.

He was tall, not crazy tall. Normal tall. He had dark hair and slight laughter lines and creases around his eyes. He was kitted out in leather, his jacket thrown over the arm of the chair revealing his sleeve of tattoos. His chocolate brown eyes laughed in delight as he spotted her, dancing with happiness.

"Elena." he breathed quietly as he stood up, making her way towards her to embrace her tightly.

"Dad." she said in greeting, inhaling the scent of leather and oil, closing her eyes as she imagined what her life could be like. She hugged him tighter. When he wasn't here she didn't miss him so much but the second he walked through the door, her heart broke for them all. Circumstance was a bitch.

"You look beautiful." he said sadly. Grayson always seemed so sad when he came to visit, sad he had missed out on so much of her life just to keep her safe.

"Thanks." she said awkwardly, not sure how to continue the conversation. She'd always hated compliments, even from family.

It was strange to call him that. Through blood that was what he was but to her, family was more than just blood. You can't just share blood with someone and automatically have the right to call them your family. It's more than that.

Suddenly, a wide smile split her dad's face lighting his eyes up so he looked so much like her she almost burst out laughing.

"I brought you something." he said mischievously, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. He was acting like he was five years old.

Anticipation rose up inside her as she flashed a smile at Grayson and followed him outside.

He winked at her and at Miranda who was watching with a smirk from the doorway. Her dark hair falling softly around her shoulder and her regular clothes almost hiding her previous life, but it was there. The spark in her eyes and the fire in her laugh. The tattoos marking her out as one of them.

He flung open the doors of the van, revealing a gleaming bike, standing on the tilt, perfectly steady.

"No way." she breathed as she took in the vehicle before her. She flung her arms around her dad's neck and hugged him tightly. "Thank you!" she squealed as she jumped into the van and walked around the bike in a slow circle.

"It's the new Harley Sportster." her dad grinned excitedly. "I got it a custom paint job." He was practically bubbling over with excitement.

It had everything a new bike should have; shiny chrome trimmings, soft leather on the seat but it was the paint job that really stood out.

It was a deep, midnight black, so dark it seemed to have a blue tint as the light from the house caught on it. She had always told her dad when he came to visit she wanted a bike like this when she was older.

She smiled widely at her father and flung herself into his arms again. "You remembered!" she laughed softly into the leather of his shoulder.

"Remembered? I've been planning this since you told me!" he grinned and ruffled her long, brown hair. "I love ya squirt." he flashed a triumphant smile at Miranda who was shaking her head, laughing by the doorway.

"Love you too, Dad!" she yelled and bolted inside the house to grab her riding leathers and helmet. "This totally trumps the Kawasaki you got me for my eighteenth." she said smirking.

"Well I can't have my baby without a Harley, can I?" he asked laughing as he retreated to stand by Miranda. "It's ready to go." he said invitingly.

Elena cracked a smile and slipped on her jacket and gloves and walked the bike out of the van. She blew a kiss to her mother and waved playfully at her father before sliding on her helmet, flinging her leg over her new baby and powering off into the night.

"You couldn't have waited until morning?" Miranda asked laughing.

Grayson shrugged and squeezed her shoulder. "Nah. I've never been one for waiting, especially not for this."

Miranda nodded. "You coming in to wait until she gets back?" she asked hopefully. He rarely stayed longer than a few hours. It never mattered that she'd had to leave. All that mattered that he was here now, and still living another day.

Grayson nodded, smiling. "I need to run some errands first. She won't be back for a couple hours at least."

Miranda smiled and kissed his cheek gently. "See you later." she said gently.

Grayson stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead, backing into the truck and driving off in the opposite direction from his daughter.

* * *

Elena laughed gleefully as she sped along the highway. She was miles away by now, relishing in the roar of _her _bike. Just as she pulled into a rest stop just east of central San Clemente, her phone erupted into life, blasting an irritating ringtone.

"Hey!" she answered brightly.

"Elena." her mum's voice came through the phone. "Where the hell are you?" she laughed lightly.

Elena looked around, glancing at the sea around her. "Uh- San Clemente." she coughed awkwardly, preparing for her motherly instincts to kick in over the biker chick she often displayed.

"ELENA." her mother yelled exasperated.

"Love you." she replied weakly, knowing her mother couldn't stay made at her. "I'll leave right now okay?" she said hurriedly.

"You better." she said in a final tone. "I love you, don't drive into a tree." she chuckled at her own humour.

"Bye Mom." she said innocently as she rolled her eyes. "I love you, too." she smiled into the phone before hanging up and sighing.

She reluctantly look one last look at the ocean that was sparkling under the moon. She wasn't exactly looking forward to the next hour in a saddle. She'd gone the back route to get there, cutting through Malibu and doing a complete circuit around the places of L.A she loved to visit. At least the return journey would be less than that.

The lights flashed by her, becoming a blur of nothingness, broken only by pauses with the traffic Elena focused on nothing and let her mind wander wherever it wanted. Whether that was north towards her mother and the life she knew or somewhere further away, roaring on the back on a motorbike along a Vegas highway.

* * *

She heard the sirens before she saw the blaze. She felt her heart pounding in her chest before it dropped to her stomach. She saw everything is the clearest detail before it became a blur.

"NO!" she screamed as she skidded to a halt, letting the bike fall to the ground. "NO!" she yelled as terror overtook her. "My mom! Someone get my mom!" she screamed at the people around her, tears streaming down her face.

No one responded, no one moved. They just looked at her with the deepest look of pity. It was that she couldn't happen. She couldn't handle this. She could handle the life her father lead, she could handle than she was in danger because of that life. She could handle growing up without her father. But this? She couldn't handle the look in people's eyes. Pity. Sympathy. This was her life and whether she liked it or not it was a part of her.

She looked around, her face distraught as the flames took a new hold over her home. She vaguely heard a man's voice yelling somewhere behind her as she raced towards the inferno.

"Elena!" her Dad yelled as he caught her around the waist and pulled her back, locking her in place with strong arms.

"No!" she yelled, her voice shaking with fear. "I don't know! I don't know what happened!" she yelled anguished as she tried to fight.

Grayson spun her around, gripping the tops of her arms tightly and looked her dead in the eye. "Elena." he said as calmly as he could manage.

She gazed at him, her eyes wide and scared and her face ashen as she continued to fight against him. She yelled, tears continuing to spill over as she finally broke free and charged towards the flames once more.

Once again she was held back, with more arms, more people this time. Too many to fight.

She dropped to her knees as her whole world, her whole life came crashing down around her. "No." she whispered shaking her head back and forth, salty tears steadily dripping down her face.

Grayson took his daughter in his arms and held her tight. He held the one link to the women he loved, and had left behind as she cried and screamed and yelled, fighting all possibilities than ended in tragedy.

He circled her body and dragged her up, forced her face to lock eyes with his. Their identical chocolate orbs mirroring each other in their pain.

"You aren't safe here, Elena. You aren't safe." he whispered under his breath, conscious of the nearby paramedics.

"I've never been safe." she murmured brokenly, her eyes hardening as she struggled against her emotions.

Grayson looked at her with a broken hearted expression. "I know." he whispered, more to himself than to her.

Elena looked at the ambulance. "She's gone, isn't she?" she asked, the words slicing cold needles into her heart.

Grayson's eyes darkened and for the first time in her life she saw her father crumble, even if it was just for a second. When he next looked up, his eyes were dark still, full of fiery anger and vengeance.

"Go." he whispered in her ear.

She looked at her dad in shock. There was only one place she could go, only one place she would be safe. She wanted that life. Or she had wanted that. Right now, all she wanted was to be at home, arguing with her mother over coming home so late and curling up with ice cream and a movie.

Grayson looked at her pleadingly and all the fight left her body. "Go. Don't stop until you get there. Please."

Elena glanced between her father and her charred frame of what had once been her home. She had nothing here, everything had been destroyed. Every memory, every picture was gone. She looked up, her eyes determined. She nodded, her iron-strong emotional grip in place.

"I won't." she said as a goodbye as she walked resolutely over to her bike, it barely registering in her mind her Kawasaki would be nothing but a charred frame by now.

She ignored the shouts from the emergency services. Their comments and suggestions and firm orders washed over her, going in one ear and out the other and she took one glance at her father standing a few feet away, his eyes broken.

She nodded, her eyes flickering with some sort of goodbye as she kicked off and disappeared from this town, from this city, from this life. From everything she had ever known and everything that was a comfort to her. She was leaving. _I won't be back _said a quiet voice in the back of her mind. And it was right. She wouldn't be back here.

* * *

Dawn was just breaking as she slowed outside the clubhouse. It hadn't been hard to find. The Vagrants of Phoenix were well known and ruthless and not exactly big on secrecy when it came to concealment. There was nothing the police could pin on them, they were simply a motorcycle club, sitting isolated in a disused area of the surrounding areas of Phoenix.

She looked up in awe at the building, stunned by it's design. There was no style to describe it by, it was unique in all ways, beautiful even but it still held the unspoken message of what went on behind the walls, the fences and the security camera.

She would not answer questions until Grayson showed. He could deal with a mysterious daughter showing up and walking straight into the Vagrants clubhouse. He could deal with all that bullshit.

She kicked off again, heading towards the gate and taking the lack of a lock as an invitation drove in, skidding her bike to a halt in the dusty courtyard.

After everything she had been through in the past hours, this is should not feel like this. She shouldn't be arriving in a place she hadn't been to and feeling like this. She should not be feeling like she belonged here but regardless of what was right and what she should feel she did feel like that.

Among the various tools and machinery and surrounded by dust and warmed by the already boiling sun she finally felt like she was home.

* * *

"Damon, some biker just drove into the courtyard. Go tell them to fuck off." Tyler grumbled at the sleeping body. Damon moaned and rolled off the couch.

"Dude. It's _your_ fucking watch." he growled as he glanced at the screen. "What bike is it?"

Tyler shrugged and leant back on the chair, stretching his cramped muscles out behind him. "Dude-" he mocked, earning a glare, "-You're the one who's gonna be the damn president here eventually. It's your _duty_. And I can't be fucked." he pointed out casually. "And I don't know. Too dusty down there today. It's black I reckon."

Damon groaned as he stood, feeling the effects of sleeping on the sofa and glanced at the screen once more. The guy didn't seem to be doing anything except looking around. His father probably had some associate from Vegas or L.A riding in. Or maybe Gray had sent someone back ahead of him. He cringed at the name he was supposed to use. 'Boots'. Who the hell would use that? He groaned. The guy was most likely some amateur from the show room in Vegas wanting to try his luck here. Bet the guy had a Honda. Or something equally shit compared to the bikes lined up in the garage.

He stepped out of the room and into the hall, wincing as the sunlight streamed in and attacked his eyes. He groaned and kicked the door open, storming out into the courtyard.

"Dude!" he yelled. "What the fuck?"

The guy looked at him and swung his legs off of his bike. Holy shit. Was that a-? No... No way. Not from this guy.

Damon was too busy gaping at the bike to notice the biker making his way towards him, stripping off their helmet as they walked.

He tore his eyes away from the bike – still unsure in the bright morning light what it was – and locked his gaze onto the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen.

Holy. Fuck.

He had no idea how long she'd been riding for but hell, did she look good. How did he not notice those legs before? He thought as his eyes travelled down her long legs and up again, feasting on the hot body that definitely lurked under all her leather before resting on her face. Her tanned skin was glistening with from being under the helmet, as was her chocolate hair that was currently cascading down her back in loose waves. Her eyes were a deep brown, full of fire and her mouth was currently set in a thin line, with her eyebrows raised amusedly at him.

The young woman scoffed and turned away to loop her helmet over the handle bars and lean against her bike casually.

"You done?" she snapped, although her eyes were glinting with amusement as she casually slipped off her gloves.

He rose an eyebrow and smirked. "Not quite."

The girl crossed her arms and waited for him to say more. With that he was brought back to reality with a crash. No matter how fucking gorgeous this girl was she couldn't just walk in here like she was known.

"Look. You need to leave." he said wearily. He wasn't up for argument.

"No chance." she scoffed and took her weight off of the bike, her eyes hard.

"You don't just get to walk in like you own the fucking place, doll." he stated, winking.

"Look, _Damon,"_ she said through gritted teeth, stopping him in his track. Yes, he was _known _but not by face, more by name.

"How the fuck do you know me?" he snapped out, pissed off and enthralled by this girl at the same time.

"Not very confident in your reputation are we, Salvatore?" she mocked, smiling innocently.

Damon glared at her. He'd never, _never _met someone who could match him. "Doesn't change a thing. This is the Phoenix V.M.C Clubhouse, you idiot."

She rolled her eyes exasperated. "I know, _you idiot_." she mocked him again. "If you would let me talk to Giuseppe I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Or be interested at the very least."

He rose an eyebrow, impressed by her rebounds. Clearly she knew about bikes, the club and everything but still. She couldn't just walk in and demand to see Giuseppe. They were one of the most rivalled clubs overall in all of America. Strangers weren't just invited in for tea with the President.

Damon shook his head, irritated. "As nice as you seem" he said sarcastically "it doesn't work like than sunshine."

The girl chuckled softly. He liked her laugh. It was nice.

What? He stopped himself quickly. Damon Salvatore did not think things were nice. Especially not hot, sarcastic women's _laughs_. It wasn't even a laugh – it was a fucking _giggle_.

She relaxed back against her bike, causing it to tilt slightly, moving it out of the glare of the sun.

"Is that the new Harley Sportster?" he said surprised. He even said it nicely. Ish.

She looked up, shocked. "Damon Salvatore does small talk?' she asked mock confused.

Damon shrugged and winked at her. "Only when there's pretty girls and Sportsters involved." he chuckled. "so is it?" he asked again.

The girl smiled genuinely for the first time since arriving. It made her look amazing, her eyes were sparkling in the morning sun. "Yeah." she said softly, as he subconsciously circled the bike.

He whistled lowly. "It's amazing." he said as he stroked his hands along the smooth paint. "nice job on the paint. Who got it to glint blue like that? Mine just stays solid." he commented.

She rose one perfect eyebrow and smiled again, _almost_ causing him to smile back.. "You know. You're not as much of an ass as I was told."

Damon shrugged, taken off his feet by the sudden niceties they were exchanging. "Maybe you're different."

"Oh honey, I'm very different." she said lightly, immediately moving away from even slightly substantial conversation.

"And people say I'm cocky." he smirked at her.

"Oh you are." she smiled. "Look, I get this isn't normal, but I need to speak to Giuseppe. You don't have to take me inside, or leave me here alone just get him to come out or whatever."

Damon rose an eyebrow silently.

The girl groaned at his silence. "Tell him it's about Miranda and Grayson." she said quietly, sadness creeping through the lightness in her eyes.

Damon froze. He had never heard those two names, connected together and used in a sentence of relevance from anyone's mouth other than his father's.

"How do you know that name?" he breathed silently.

No one knew about Miranda in the Vagrants anymore, or any other club for that matter. Grayson had told Giuseppe who had of course in turn told him. No lower ranking members knew. No opposing clubs could have found her. She was a secret, kept that way for her safety and for Grayson's peace of mind. Those who knew of her here were threatened into secrecy or went willingly or living far away, unable to cause harm. _No one_ knew she was connected to Grayson.

"As I said. Let me talk to Giuseppe and I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

He nodded curtly. This girl had arrived as dawn was breaking, on a raven black Sportster. She was gorgeous and witty and fiery. She had spark and managed to tease a civil conversation out of him. She knew things many who had been a member for over a decade didn't know.

* * *

_One of the longest chapters I've ever written... for anything._


	3. Explanations

Damon shot her a look that clearly said 'Wait here' before jogging into the clubhouse yelling to some guy named Tyler.

She relaxed against the bike, staring after him. He was _hot. _She smirked to herself. How many bikers were there around with a face like that? She breathed out slowly and considered what it was that made him so... different. He was sexy and powerful and charming. He had those icy blue eyes and his messy raven hair. How could anyone resist _that?_

She smiled to herself and tilted her head back, soaking up the morning sun and letting her eyes droop closed. She hadn't slept in near twenty-four hours and the trip to San Clemente and back the night before had done her in, let alone this one from Pasadena to freaking _Phoenix. _

She crashed her head in her hands and fought to stay awake. There is only so much caffeine you can inhale at service stations before you crash and sleep like the dead for the next twelve to fourteen hours. She looked up at the sky again, blinking her sore eyes and trying to focus.

After about twenty seconds of attempting to clear her head she gave up, standing and stretching her sore muscles. She rolled her shoulders back and ran her fingers through her hair, glancing down at herself. This was Phoenix she reminded herself before unzipping her jacket and peeling of her trousers, leaving her only in short denim shorts and a small white t-shirt. She reached her arms above her head and stretched them, feeling the ache in her muscles. It was good. It meant she wouldn't hurt so bad when she woke up.

She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited in the sun. How was she supposed to explain to Giuseppe? She wished her Dad was here. He hadn't been around much but he was there when he could be, he'd kept her safe and cared for, slowly bringing out the biker side of her than her mother tried to hide in herself. She swallowed painfully as Miranda crossed her mind. She couldn't think about her right now, maybe in a day, a week or a year. But not now. Now it hurt just that little bit too much.

She allowed her eyes to drift closed for a second, dreaming in the warm sun.

Footsteps drawing near her startled her, her eyes napping open and sitting bolt upright. She focused on the man crossing the yard towards her. Damon Salvatore. She thought slyly to herself. He was one of the most striking men she'd ever met. Not just his looks, but his overall personality too.

"Hey." he said casually, smirking just a little as his eyes raked up and down her newly uncovered form.

"Didn't you get enough earlier?" she asked, amused by his complete lack of subtlety.

"I'm deciding what I like you better in. I mean this" he gestured to her outfit and winking "is awesome. But the leather" he trailed of meaningfully. "the leather holds a special place for _moi_."

She rolled her eyes and smiled, cocking her head to one side. "So what's the verdict?" she asked seriously.

"Leather trumps legs _every_ time._" _he said, smirking.

She rose an eyebrow, deciding not to comment.

"And Dad says you come in." Damon said in a strange tone. Obviously, he wasn't sure why some stranger was being let into the clubhouse with open arms but hey, he didn't run things around here. At least not yet.

He nodded slightly to her, gesturing for her to follow him.

She laughed. "And my bike?"

Damon took a step back. "Put it in that building." he pointed to a small out building a couple hundred metres away.

She nodded and stored her bike, taking her time admiring the others stored there.

"Really." came his scathing voice from behind her. "you're honestly taking this long?"

"Yes." she snapped, making her way through the door and into the clubhouse.

* * *

"Left here, then follow the hall round 'till you meet the double wooden doors." he said in a bored tone. She didn't get it. She'd thought he _wasn't_ an ass.

She resisted rolling her eyes an followed her instructions, knocking gently on the door before being greeted by a man, roughly the same age as Grayson, with slightly more lines and a little more laughter in his eyes.

"Morning Dad." Damon said pleasantly before crashing onto the leather sofa near the fire and rolling his head backward against the back of the seat.

"Morning, Damon." he said in a distracted tone. "Could you-" he broke up, clearly unsure of how to ask him to leave.

Elena shook her head slightly. "It's fine. He can stay."

Giuseppe rose an eyebrow and smiled slightly at her. "I-" he cleared his throats awkwardly. "sit, please. I won't have you standing in this room."

She shook her head, feeling her day getting to her. "I'd rather stand, if I sit down I'll probably pass out. I've been awake nearly twenty-four hours-"

"And?" Damon cut her off sharply, earning a sharp look from his father and a scathing glare from her.

"I was riding around L.A for over three hours last night. That alone would take it out of you. Added to the night I had and then to the fact that I drove from Pasadena straight here would explain it."

"You drove here from Pasadena through the night?" Giuseppe said aghast "after driving around L.A for over three hours? You have to sleep. Explain when you wake up. Grayson will skin me alive if I don't make you."

Damon smirked, "Overreaction." he muttered under his breath.

That made her snap. Everything she'd been holding up inside her finally let lose. She turned to glare at Damon, her eyes burning with rage.

"You" she shot daggers at him, her mouth set in a hard line. "have no idea what I've gone through in the last twelve hours alone. So shut the fuck up."

Damon glared at her, his eyes hard. "I don't know who the hell you think you are. You drove what, nine, maybe ten hours?"

Elena stood up, her body tense. Fighting everything in her from screaming at him that her Mom was dead and she had no idea where her Dad might be.

"I don't want to ask you this, but I have to. What happened? Where is Grayson? Why are you here?" Giuseppe cut of Damon quickly, before he could extremely piss her off.

Had Grayson called him? Contacted him in anyway? Apparently not.

She sat down gently and rubbed her face in one hand. "I'm assuming you know Grayson came to see us last night?" Giuseppe nodded gently, also sitting, his entire attention focused on her. "He came up, we talked for a bit and he brought me a bike." a true smile split her face, bringing the light back into her eyes. "So I went out riding, I do that a lot. Just ride around L.A, sometimes go up to Vegas. My mo-" she coughed awkwardly, not sure how much she was willing to let Damon know.

"Miranda called me asking where I was so I headed home." she looked away, the familiar emotional lock down coming into place. "I could see the flames before I got there. The whole house was alight and burning down. I doubt any thing is left standing except a charred frame at the most. The only reason I'm still standing here is because Grayson brought that bike. Then afterwards, he held me back from the flames. I was ready to go and search for her myself."

Giuseppe looked down, an unreadable expression on her face. "Miranda?" he asked softly.

She looked away, unable to face the pain in his eyes. "Gone." she whispered almost incoherently but that one word was one everyone could hear with painful accuracy.

Giuseppe rested his head in his hands and rubbed his hands over his face, trying to come to terms with everything.

Damon was in a similar state, his eyes pained. "I-uh-I'm sorry." he murmured, pointedly ignoring Giuseppe's shocked face.

Elena stood up and glared at him. "What are you sorry for? Sorry for being a fucking asshole? Sorry for being nice _then _being a fucking asshole?"

Damon looked up. "I'm sorry." he repeated. "For what you went through, I mean. I didn't realise you and Miranda were close-"

Elena shook her head and laughed without humour. "Close?" she scoffed, a few tears spilling over from the corners of her eyes.

"You said it was an overreaction because I drove over nine hours after losing a friend?" she looked back at him, her eyes burning.

"I came back to my house, the house I grew up in. I came back to the only home I've ever known being razed to the ground. It wasn't an accident. I could smell the _gasoline_."

Giuseppe looked on with sad eyes. He may be a ruthless killer with a notorious reputation but with this girl? With Grayson's daughter? He was more a family man than anyone would be.

"My home was being burnt to the ground while my motherwas _inside_ it-" Damn grew pale, his eyes wide.

"Miranda is your mother?" he said wide eyed.

Elena looked at him, unable to glare anymore. "Was."

Damon opened his mouth to say something, anything. She shook her head. "Grovel when I'm actually awake." she said before leaning her head back to rest against the pillows and falling into a restless sleep.

* * *

Damon stared at her in shock feeling like shit. Lower than shit, in fact. Why had he been such an ass to her? He'd let her get under his skin and then he'd had to go all fucking ass Damon on her and now she'd always think he was the guy who's just Giuseppe's oldest son. And complete insensitive ass. The girl he had seen just there was completely different from the one he'd met in the courtyard. Each was complex, enthralling and enchanting. Even with everything he had said to make her detest him he was still just as amazed by her.

Giuseppe glared at him, anger spilling out of his eyes. He pointed furiously to the bedroom joined to the study, gesturing for him to go there.

Damon rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly and turning towards where the girl lay. He scooped her into his arms and carried her gently into the adjoining bedroom and laying her on the bed, slowly easing off her shoes and covering her gently in the comforter.

He closed the door slightly, leaving it ajar and returned to sit on the couch as before.

"Perspective father. You don't leave the girl sleeping in the study on a couch than will kill her back while we argue in a bedroom." he said, trying to draw attention away from himself, while looking around. "Did you stay here tonight? Why didn't you go home?"

"Damon." his father said in shock. Damon rose an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

Giuseppe rolled his eyes, looking strikingly like his son. "You apologised to her. Twice, if I remember correctly. Then you carried her to a bed so she wouldn't hurt her back." he said wondrously. "you barely know the girl, Damon, yet she's really made an impact."

Damon shook his head and poured himself some bourbon. "My caring about her isn't what's important here." he reminded his father.

Giuseppe darkened and joined Damon on the sofa, resting his ankle on the opposite knee. "It's a lot easier to understand." he muttered under his breath. "We know nothing. We have to wait for Grayson to turn up."

Damon set his head gently on the backrest, staring at the patterns on the ceiling. "We know it was gasoline. We know someone either wanted Miranda's daughter alive or it was a lucky coincidence that she was out of the house. We know-"

Giuseppe shook his head softly, "Don't" he said weakly "start getting into this tonight. I can't join you. You've heard of Miranda, you know she left for her own safety. I assumed-" his father's voice cracked slightly. "She was one of my oldest friends. I've known her since I was six years old."

Damon rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

"What's her name?" he asked suddenly after a while, realising he did not know it.

Giuseppe shook his head. "I don't know. Gray never told me, I only knew it was her because he brought pictures back a couple times. They're gone now of course. No one could know about Miranda, let alone their daughter."

"So she's Grayson's?" he wondered out loud.

Giuseppe scoffed."Miranda loved Grayson more than anything in the world, except their daughter. She would never cheat on him, or even think about moving on. She knew it would be dangerous to stay so they both agreed she should leave and raise her herself. It was dangerous for them both because she is Grayson's daughter. You know how many enemies he has." he smiled slightly. "She never stopped loving him, I'm sure of it." Giuseppe smiled fondly at a forgotten memory.

"How did you know though? Surely the picture-"

"The eyes. Didn't you see them? They're Grayson's mirror image. You can know how Gray's feeling through his eyes, I wonder if she's the same." he murmured the last part to herself.

"She is." he said to himself. Giuseppe smiled knowingly before standing up and snatching Damon's bourbon away from him.

"It's too early for that." he winked at his son.

"I learnt from the best." he smirked confidently.

"Stay here will you?" Giuseppe ordered as he massaged his temples. "Someone found them, I need to know she's safe while she's resting. Sit in here or sit in the room with her, whatever."

Damon rose an eyebrow. Giuseppe was a good dad to an extent. He loved his kids and treated them fairly and was the perfect dad for a rebel teenager but he's never been one for family or excessive caring.

"She's my goddaughter. She's Gray's daughter. If something happened to her Grayson wouldn't need to shoot me because I would do it myself." he laughed to himself, a hint of seriousness behind the humour.

"You know Grayson wont talk to you about what happened until he talks to her." he said quietly as he settled into an armchair in the bedroom.

"Grayson is like my brother. And my brother essentially just lost the only girl he's ever truly loved. He'll talk to me about what he needs too, when he needs too. As you would for Stefan."

Damon cocked his head to the side, "Stefan wouldn't ask me for help. You know he wouldn't, you know he hates this stuff."

Giuseppe sighed. "He doesn't hate the bikes or the club. He hates everything that goes along with it. He hates what I stand for, maybe you can change that."

He scoffed out loud at the thought. "Come on, Dad" he laughed "all you want if for me to be exactly like you and lead the Phoenix chapter like you lead it. Not for many years I hope though." he added at the end.

Giuseppe smiled, "You're my son. As long as you keep us running, afloat and level with Vegas I'm good with everything else."

They were silent for a while. "And keep up the reputation." he added subconsciously.

Damon chuckled along with his father, who stood up downing the bourbon. "If she wakes up, don't be an ass." he said firmly before walking out the study with a friendly hand on his shoulder.

Damon leant his head back for what felt like the millionth time that morning and looked at the girl's sleeping face. He couldn't imagine what it would be like. Coming back from doing the one thing you love most to find your home in flames and knowing your Mom is inside...

She looked young. Not much younger than him but barely in her twenties. He was barely in his twenties himself. Twenty-one, twenty-two maybe. Even at that, that's too young to lose a parent. You're always too young to lose a parent.

The sound of a bike entering the courtyard startled him from his reverie. He snapped his head towards the window, making out the figure of Grayson's bike with Grayson sprinting towards the club house. He stood, stretching painfully after his night sleeping on a sofa, and made his way out of the study.

"Damon!" he yelled, skidding to a halt in front of him. "Is she here? I didn't see her bike. Where is she?" he panicked. In all the years he had known Grayson he had never seen him like this.

"She's asleep." he said quietly, nodding towards the study.

Grayson looked visibly relieved and let out a sigh of relief. "I'll let her sleep. Where's Giuseppe?" he asked, all panic gone from his face.

Damon shrugged. "You know him better than I do." he pointed out.

Grayson breathed out and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Look after her." he said before swiftly walking through the hallways in search of his father.

Damon stared after him for a few moments, still in shock that he had a daughter. He groaned loudly in annoyance as he sat back down in the chair. He'd never got the girl's name. It was going to bug him until she told him or Giuseppe told him.

"What you groaning at?" came an amused voice from the bed. He smiled gently as he glanced up at her. She was leaning against the headboard with her knees pulled up to her chest with her hair draped over one shoulder.

He smirked and leant forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I don't know your name." he said simply. Well honesty _is_ the best policy.

She smiled and ran her fingers through her hair. "It's Elena."

Elena. He tried to stop himself smiling but a small one slipped through. "Nice name." he smirked.

He paused, tension building. "Look, about earlier-" he began.

"Forget it, okay? You were being an ass and you obviously feel bad about it. It's forgotten okay." she said quickly. Clearly she wasn't in to all that deep, emotional, apologetic conversations.

Damon nodded, deciding to let it slide. If she could forget about it, so could he.

The lightness in her eyes suddenly dimmed as she glanced out the window. "Grayson's here then."

He nodded, standing up slowly, figuring she might want privacy or something.

She rose and eyebrow smirking playfully. "Going somewhere?"

He glanced back hesitant. Why wasn't he acting like himself with her? He was so... held back.

_Screw it. _He thought before crashing onto the bed next to her.

"Nah." he said before closing his eyes and stretching out.

She rolled her eyes and pushed off of the bed, chucking a pillow at him. "Come on."

He cracked an eye open and stared at her. "You what?"

She chuckled. "I can't sit inside and do nothing. I need to be out doing _something_."

He smirked and rolled off the bed to stand by the door. "So go."

She smiled slightly. "But you happen to be the only person I know, so you get the job of entertaining me."

"Oh I could find plenty of ways to entertain you." he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Elena shook her head, her dark hair dancing out around her. "I'm sure it would be just as fun for you." she said playfully, her gorgeous eyes sparkling.

He chuckled softly and made his way into the hallway, watching as she slipped into a bathroom.

She was amazing. She was beautiful and funny and sarcastic. She could actually hold her own in a conversation and had made him apologise. He wasn't being a complete ass to her... he was being nice-ish at times. He shook her head and leant against the wall, smirking to himself. Her situation sucked but he was glad as hell she had arrived here.


	4. Crash

She looked into the bathroom mirror once before leaving, suddenly abnormally self-conscious. She shrugged, she had nothing better anyway so this would have to do. She swung the door open and walked straight into a rock hard body.

"Elena." he said in a tone she couldn't place. Somewhere between sarcasm and patronization.

"Damon." she mocked, smirking up at him causing him to roll his eyes.

"Where are you planning on going today?" he asked curiously, obviously one for getting straight to the point.

She shrugged and winked at him. "Just take me somewhere interesting."

He rolled his eyes again, smirking at her personality. He jerked his head in the direction of the study his father kept most of his records in. That was where Giuseppe and Grayson would be. "Come on." he said without any further explanation.

She rose an eyebrow but followed him anyway rather hesitantly with her arms folded across her chest. He was probably taking her to see Grayson she realised almost immediately. She was shocked to say the least. Damon Salvatore was so different than what she'd heard from the various bikers she'd known in her late teens.

This time, when he reached a door hid away from the rest of the club house, he didn't knock. He walked straight in and motioned for her to follow.

She edged gingerly into the room, slightly suspicious. She glanced around when she caught a glimpse of the two men talking on the porch. A wave of relief she didn't know would exist washed over her. He was okay, he was alive and he was here. She breathed out shallowly and steadied herself, looking at Damon with silent thanks.

He smiled at her gently before taking the lead and making his way to the french door separating the two sets of people.

Grayson turned around and the look on his face shocked her. His eyes were hard and stony, his mouth set in a grim line. He saw her and some of the visible tension left his body. In moments he was through the doors and hugging her so tightly she thought she might suffocate. She wound her arms around him anyway and pressed her face against the leather of his shoulder, seeking comfort in the familiarity of it.

"Thank god you're okay." he murmured into her hair. "I couldn't lose you both."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Giuseppe motion to Damon to join him outside. Obviously, he had some tact and wanted to leave his best friend with his daughter in peace.

Grayson pulled back, but kept his rough hand pressed against her cheek, his chocolate eyes flickering.

He breathed out and ran a hand through his hair, sitting heavily on the corner of the desk.

She shrugged and sat beside him, leaning a head on his shoulder. "No need to get maternal, Dad." she said, weakly attempting to lighten the situation.

"You're so like me, Elena. Cracking awful jokes to lighten situations." he chuckled forcefully beside her.

"I must get a lot from you. I wasn't like Mom at all." A sliver of ice seemed to be stuck in her throat as she spoke about her mom, she swallowed roughly.

"I'm sure you are." he said smiling. "But from what I hear you have a bit of a bark, missy." he said, pretending to scold her.

She chuckled and nudged her father playfully. "Definitely" she said smirking slightly "you gotta be able to hold you own, right?"

Grayson darkened slightly, his fists clenching over the wood of the desk. "Did anything like that ever happen before?" he asked after a while of silence.

She shook her head "Never" she said softly, her voice quiet and rough "Who was it?" she asked in a hard tone.

Her dad sighed, "I don't know. Everything is more complicated than it seems." he turned to face her, his eyes sad. "People are after you. They have been without them even knowing it."

He groaned and held his head in his hands. "You know how many enemies I have but it is deeper than that. There are enemies, rivals, people who just genuinely don't like the Vagrants as a whole. People I pissed off a long time ago and even people who had a vendetta against Miranda. I thought you would be safe. Somewhere far away from me and from this club but of course, someone kept looking."

She looked at her father sadly, he was tearing himself up inside. He was like her. He didn't do confrontations or even many emotions, but he blamed himself.

"I get you're blaming yourself. Don't. Do you know anything about the fire?"

Grayson shook his head curtly. "See?" she said gently "it could have been an accident, a freak of nature or a coincidence."

He smiled at her, stoking her hair back from her face and keeping his hand on her cheek. "She would have said that too. She would have made me feel better. You're better at it than she was. But, Elena, you know as well as I do there was gasoline last night. It was so strong that's the first lead the police looked in to."

"Promise me you won't blame yourself." she persisted stubbornly.

He smirked. "You inherited all my bad parts. You got the stubbornness, the attitude and I'm sure a lot more." His smile died form his lips. "If Miranda hadn't left she might be alive."

Elena glared at her father angrily. "Stop it!" She stood up, "Don't blame yourself. If I don't blame you, you can't either. I don't blame you for leaving me and Mom. I don't blame you for abandoning your own child to keep her safe. I don't blame that you have enemies and that may be the cause of the fire. I don't blame you for anything."

Grayson looked at her, a distinct pride burning in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair.

"You're special 'Lena." she smiled. A few hours into permanent parenthood and he already had a nickname. "I don't do all the mushy stuff but I gotta say, I love you, kid. And I'm sorry I wasn't there for you much."

Elena scoffed. "I don't do that either" she said smiling "But I love you too. And don't be sorry for keeping me safe."

Grayson dropped a kiss to her forehead and stroked her hair. "Stay safe if you go out."

She nodded and rolled her eyes. "Course, daddy!" she chimed innocently making Grayson's eyes sparkle.

"It's good to hear you say that." he grinned squeezing her shoulder lightly as he past, making his way past her and out onto the porch.

Damon nodded to each and clapped Grayson on the shoulder as he past, stopping in front of her and bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Everything good with Grace?" he asked lightly. She cocked her head to the side. There was something about him. He could ask questions like that in a way that made everything seem almost normal.

"Sure" she nodded "what do I tell people?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh?" he asked, the look on his face pretty amusing. The great, ever sarcastic, all knowing Damon Salvatore looking like a ten year old being taught algebra for the first time.

She rolled her eyes and laughed softly, "Idiot. What do I tell people? Am I Grayson's daughter or some random chick you're hooking up with for the week?"

He rose his eyebrows, his eyes wide. "You think I just hook up with random girls?"

She rose her eyebrows too "Do you?"

He shook his head in disbelief. "Well yes. But I wouldn't treat you like that. I actually like you, Gilbert."

She smirked. "Well, I am irresistible."

He shook his head and stuck his head out the door. "Gray, what do you want her to tell people? How you gonna explain her to the rest of the guys?"

Grayson furrowed his eyebrows and exchanged a look with Giuseppe. "It wouldn't do any harm telling people she's your daughter would it?" Giuseppe asked calmly.

Grayson's eyebrows mashed together. "No" he trailed off slightly "You taking her her out?" he asked in all his fatherly protection making Elena chuckle.

"Dad. Chill. He's the only person I know. I need to buy some stuff anyway."

Grayson's eye widened in realization. Everything she had owned bar the clothes she was wearing, her leathers and her bike had been burnt to a crisp.

"Chill, Elena." he mocked, reminding her of herself. He dug in his pocket for his wallet and bringing out a wad of cash and handing it to her. "Don't be the girl I know you are and go crazy, okay?" he warned. "Then get Damon to take you back to his and I'll meet you there later."

She laughed softly. "Thanks Dad. Bye." she giggled as she walked out the door, followed quickly by Damon who nudged her gently in the ribs before walking off, presumably to collect his bike.

"You're a great dad you know, Grace." she heard Giuseppe say lightly "She's just like you."

"That's a good thing?" Grayson replied jokingly, "I try, but I've never had practise y'know. She probably thinks I'm some deadbeat who's gonna fuck this up at the first possible opportunity."

Her heart clenched. Yes, Grayson hadn't been around much but he was all she had now. She had her dad, her bike and her clothes. That was it. She could count everything she had on one hand.

Giuseppe breathed out, obviously unsure of what to say. "You're her dad Grace. She just lost her Mom and everything she owned in a fire. She has you, the clothes on her back, a bike and Damon-"

Grayson cut him off. "Damon? They barely know each other." he said laughing slightly.

Giuseppe scoffed. "Who knows? Didn't you see him? But he did apologise to her- I know, I didn't believe it either, but out of us all, he's been with her the whole time. He hasn't left her side for a moment."

Elena realised it was true. Ever since she'd arrived he'd been there, either being an ass, a cocky ass or a relatively nice guy. She'd woken up and he'd still been in the room.

She shrugged the thought away and retraced her steps back to the courtyard, breathing in relief in the morning air.

She glanced around, it was busier now she realised. More movement even by a slight measure. There were a few guys in the background staring at her with curiosity. She groaned inwardly. _Now _she was definitely gonna get questions. She shrugged, adopting her 'what the hell' attitude and strutted over to the outbuilding where her bike was. She slipped on her leggings and jacket and walked the bike into the courtyard and leaving her helmet draped over the handle bars.

She leant casually against her bike, well aware of the stares she was getting. She was a new face in a place where strangers weren't common. Added to the fact she was a girl, clad in leather and leaning against a Harley people were bound to stare. She tilted her head back like she had done earlier that morning and let her face soak up the rays.

"Hey. Haven't seen you around before." said a male voice beside her. She let her head fall forward and her gaze fell on the a young man, around her age, maybe older with blonde hair and baby blue eyes. Not exactly biker material.

"Yeah. I got in this morning." she said reluctantly, pissed at the way the guy was making eyes at her.

"So, where you in from?" he asked curiously, his hands stuck in his back pockets.

"L.A." she said, cutting him short again.

The man nodded slightly, his eyes still unable to remain focussed on her face.

"My eyes are up here." she snapped irritated at him. He jumped at met her gaze sheepishly, starting to apologise.

"So you have a bark, huh?" came another voice beside her. Another male, this one with dark hair and eyes. "I like it." he said, winking.

She smirked at him. It was easier to deal with guys like the brunette who just wanted you for your body than guys like the blonde who would actually have a conversation with you.

"Tyler Lockwood." the brunette said smoothly, winking at her again.

"Matt Donovan." the other one put in, obviously glaring at Tyler.

"Hey-" Tyler said suddenly, "you're the biker Damon went out to get rid of earlier, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm still here, obviously."

Matt chuckled and playfully punched Tyler's shoulder. "So what's your name, gorgeous?" Tyler asked, staring at her legs. What was it with guys and leather? She thought furiously to herself.

"Elena Gilbert." she said casually, as if it was normal to have that name.

Both sets of eyes widened only slightly. "You related to Grayson or something?" Tyler asked in a shocked voice. For some reason that pissed her off. She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Or something." she said shortly, relieved to see Damon emerging from what she guessed was a garage. Then they could leave and this conversation could end.

"So where you from, Elena?" Tyler asked in what he must have thought was a flirtatious voice.

"L.A." she said, refusing to elaborate any further.

"Nice." he drawled, making Matt shake his head slightly.

"What you guys doing up this early?" she asked, figuring conversation would make time go quicker.

"Bike needs work" Matt said shrugging. "easier to get it done now."

"I'm only up 'cause I couldn't get back to sleep after I woke up this morning. Although, I'm glad I'm up now." Tyler said, waggling his eyebrows.

"So, what you doing today Elena?" Matt said, obviously determined to shut Tyler up.

"Going into Phoenix, I've never been around here before, thought I'd take a look."

"I could show you around if you like" Matt scoffed at Tyler's persistent efforts "wouldn't want you getting lost."

Elena chuckled softly, rolling her eyes, ready to shoot him down in the nicest way possible.

"Like she'd get lost." came a soft voice from behind her. She turned slowly to see Damon, standing a few feet behind her, walking his bike towards her. He winked at her as she looked at him, thanks clear in her eyes.

"You never know Damon, it's a big city." Tyler glared at Damon, unhappy for the interruption.

Damon rested an arm casually around her shoulder as he circled to stand next to her looking smug.

"Nah, I won't let her get lost."

Elena smirked and winked at Matt playfully who winked back, raised a hand and walked back to his bike.

"See, I told you it's just solid black." Damon nudged his bike with his foot.

She smiled as she looked at Damon's bike. His was also black but even without the blue tints to it it was still a gorgeous colour.

"Nah, I like it." she said appreciatively. "We going any time soon?"

Damon smirked and winked at Tyler the way she'd winked at Matt moments ago. "Love to." he drawled out, gesturing at her bike. "After you." he leaned in closer so his lips were right by her ear, "He's still staring at your ass."

She swung her leg over the seat, well aware of both men now staring at her very obviously. "Don't pretend you're a gentleman." she smirked as she kicked off a roared out of the courtyard, aware of the looks she was getting as eyes followed her and the blue eyed man who was close behind her.

It wasn't long until Elena swerved into a lay by, pulling of her helmet so she could talk to Damon.

"You do realise I have no idea where I'm going, right?" she pointed out smiling.

Damon chuckled and pulled his helmet back on. "I know." he said as he kicked off.

She shook her head and tailed him quickly, following him into the city.

* * *

She smirked as she collapsed onto a bench with a very disgruntled Damon beside her.

"Did you do _quite_ enough shopping? You sure you don't want to go back for several more hours?" he moaned as he laid on the bench closing his eyes.

She giggled, prodding his shin sharply. "I might take you up on that."

"Did you kill him?" came a hopeful voice to her right. She looked over to see a blonde girl with gorgeous green eyes bouncing on the balls of her feet while the man next to her elbowed her and told her to shut up.

"Nah" she smiled at the couple "I just made him go shopping with me."

"It was hell." he mumbled from his position next to her. "Go away Caroline."

Caroline rolled her eyes and sat next to Elena, smiling brightly. "I'm Caroline Forbes." she said obviously.

Elena laughed, the blonde had so much energy. "Elena Gilbert." she smiled back. Caroline's eyes widened only slightly before she composed herself. So she was a biker, or was connected.

"Gilbert as in Grayson?" the man said in shock, causing Damon to sit up and roll his eyes.

"No Klaus, she's a biker named Gilbert. Pure coincidence." he said in a warm voice as some sort of greeting.

Elena snorted and elbowed Damon in the ribs and nodded. "Yeah."

Klaus whistled lowly. "Niece?" he asked, purely out of curiosity.

She sighed and shook her head. "He's my dad."

Caroline gaped at her like she's just killed a puppy and Klaus' eyes widened in shock.

"Close your mouth Caroline." Damon said wearily, his voice snapping them both into action.

"Wow. He kept that quiet." Caroline said, making Elena smile. Obviously she was one of those people who said what they thought.

"Come on Care, you know why he would keep that quiet." Klaus said gently.

Caroline shrugged. "You're Grayson's daughter?" she said, needing clarification.

Elena chuckled and leant back on the bench, "Yep. Are you..." she glanced at Damon then at Klaus and Caroline, not quite sure where they would stand with everything.

"Klaus is one of us, so is his brother but Caroline" he winked at her "Caroline's the chief of police's daughter."

Elena laughed as did Caroline. "Yeah, we don't talk much anymore." she said smirking.

"Only cause she didn't like me. Then you got all offended." Klaus pointed out, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"She didn't like me either." Damon mused to himself.

"Can't think why." she said playfully, earning a sharp prod in the ribs.

"Oh my god" Caroline said in disgust, "There's two of you now."

All three of them stared at her, wondering if she'd lost her mind.

She rolled her eyes exasperated. "You" she said pointing to Elena "are like him" she said pointing to Damon "so now there is two of you." she glared at Damon.

Klaus rolled his eyes at Elena and winked at her. "They used to sleep together." he said in a stage whisper casing Caroline to smack him and Damon to flip him off.

"Ah" she said lightly. "that explains it."

Damon rose an eyebrow and gave her that half smile that made her insides flutter. "We were gonna go eat or something. I'd ask if you wanted to tag along but then Caroline would come..." he trailed off, smiling innocently.

"You should come." she said warmly to the blonde. "I don't really know anyone apart from him" he prodded Damon's chest "So you should save me from that at least."

Caroline laughed musically and stood up, pulling her up with her. "Klaus could drive your bike back then you could ride with me. No way can you ride with those bags."

Elena rose an eyebrow. Sure, Klaus seemed like an alright guy but that bike was her baby. She'd had it less than a day.

Luckily, Klaus and Damon's laughter saved her from having to explain why not.

"Come on Care, she's not letting him drive her bike. Even you might understand if you saw it."

Klaus' ears seemed to perk up at the word 'bike' "What bike is it?" he asked curiously.

Damon glared at Elena, but his eyes were dancing. "It's that new Harley we looked at, remember?. That's right. Hate her. It's an amazing paint job too." he said miserably.

"Aw you bitch!" Klaus moaned. "That's such a fucking awesome bike."

Damon sidled up to her and looked her her with plotting eyes. "You should let me ride it back."

Elena burst out laughing. "No way."

"Please." he begged. "I am in love with your bike, Elena."

Klaus continued to moan to Caroline who was nodding while studying her nails.

Elena rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I just met you, you idiot." she said, the laughter dying from her lips as the words sank in. It seemed longer than only a few hours since they'd met.

"Oh yeah. Seems longer." he shrugged. "come on, 'Lena" she smiled, apparently it wasn't that creative a nickname. "it's your bike or your shopping."

Elena groaned, it probably was the only options. "I should have just ridden with you here and gotten a cab back."

Damon pouted and fluttered his eyelashes. "Really?" she said amused. "Caroline?" she called over to the blonde.

"Mmhm?" she said, still studying her nails and tuning Klaus' ranting out.

"Could you drive my stuff back to Damon's?" she winked slyly "I mean, you'll know where it is."

Caroline laughed and nodded. "I think we'll be friends, Gilbert."

"Glad to hear it." she said as she gathered up her many bags. "Please say your car is within a two minute walk."

Caroline nodded and pointed to a Range Rover across the street. "Thank god." she muttered as she made her way towards it, arms full of bags. She flipped the trunk open and piled everything inside.

"You're a life saver honestly." she said gratefully to Caroline who smiled and leant against the car.

"What's the deal with you and Damon?" she asked slyly making her stop dead in her tracks.

"Deal? She scoffed "I barely know him."

Caroline rolled her eyes and looked at her knowingly. "Damon doesn't do shopping. He doesn't do nice with girls, but he's actually treating you differently."

Elena shrugged "I don't know. Maybe it's cause I ride." she pointed out, trying to ignore the fact that now two people close to Damon had brought them up.

Caroline shook her head. "You don't see the way he looks at you, but it's strange, I don't think he even notices it. He looks at you like you're different."

She shrugged again and leant against the car parked behind Caroline's. "I don't know. Out of all the people here he's the one I've spent the longest with at once, including my dad. He's the once I first met right when I got here."

"How long have you been here?" Caroline asked with raised eyebrows.

"I got in around dawn, I was riding through the night." she explained.

Caroline groaned. "You haven't slept since yesterday morning and you look that good?" she complained.

Elena laughed, "You kidding me? Don't worry, I caught an hour or so after I spoke to Giuseppe."

Caroline snorted. "An hour's sleep and you look that good?" Caroline's eyes sparkled. "Wait did he stay while you were asleep?"

"Yeah... so what?" she said defensively, smiling at Caroline's excited face.

"He doesn't do caring, Elena. You are important to him." she explained, excitement bubbling over.

She didn't reply, she leant back more firmly against the car behind Caroline's and crossed her arms, thinking.

They were both too lost in thought to hear the squeal of the tyres or the shouts of warning. Neither of them noticed the car speeding towards them. Klaus and Damon didn't realise what had happened until it slammed full force into the car she was leaning against.


	5. I Won't Leave You

He watched her walk over to Caroline's car, her arms full of bags and her face full of laughter. There was something about her. She was different from any other girl he'd ever met – rider or not.

"Mate. What the hell's going on?" Klaus asked, his eyes wide and his tone playful.

Damon sighed and sat back against the bench. "Nothing's going on. I barely know her."

Klaus scoffed, "You went shopping with her. You're being nice to her."

"You make me sound like an asshole." he complained roughly.

Klaus gave him a look. "Fine. I am a slight asshole, what's your point?" Why did everyone think he was incapable of being nice to someone who just happened to be a girl?

"Come on, Damon. You like her! Admit it!" Klaus pushed.

"You act like a teenage girl Klaus."

Klaus glared at him and flipped him off. "So do you. You're staring at her Damon." he pointed out gleefully.

"You sound like Caroline" he pointed out dryly "all happy and excited and incredibly irritating."

He glared at him, unable to stop the smirk sliding onto his face as he looked away from her and Caroline talking. No doubt Caroline was having a similar conversation with her.

"Nothing's going on." he insisted again, watching Caroline bounce up and down excitedly as Elena leant back the car parked beside Caroline's. She was shaking her head and seemed to be thinking hard about something.

A screech of tyres snapped them both out of their trances. Klaus jumped to his feet and stared wide eyes at the car heading towards the car beside Caroline's. The one Elena was leaning against.

Neither of them had heard the tyres screeching, he doubted either of them would notice the car.

"Move!" he yelled in panic."Move you _idiots_!" he yelled across the street.

Klaus was in a similar state. "CAROLINE!" he bellowed. "ELENA, MOVE!"

They both knew Elena was in more danger. Time seemed to go slowly as he made to move across the street and somehow get her out of the way. He had only got one foot off the pavement before the car flew into the car and Elena was thrown against Caroline's trunk and landed on the ground.

He heard Caroline scream as time sped up again. She backed away her shaking hands over her mouth. Klaus leaped over the bench and charged towards the blonde. He froze for just a second before doing the same. He was by the collision in seconds and was seriously considering shooting the driver. He'd left his gun at home though. Obviously.

He climbed over the wreckage. The moving car had collided with the one Elena had been leaning on and the force of the impact had rammed it into the back of Caroline's Range Rover.

He dropped beside her, breathing out a sigh of relief when he saw no cuts or blood on her face. He gingerly picked her up and cradled her gently against him, stroking her hair back from her face.

"What the fuck?" she mumbled as her eyelids flickered open. "Damon?" she asked confused as she tried to sit up.

"Ouch." she moaned in pain. "My head's killing me. Why are you smiling?" she snapped.

Damon restrained himself and wiped the smile off of his face. "Just glad you're not brain damaged or dead or badly hurt or something."

She smirked slightly before touching a hand to her temple. "My head is pounding." she said quietly as her eyes drooped.

It seemed everything he'd every learnt about first aid had disappeared. He crouched, gently scooping her up into his arms.

"You okay?" he asked. "Anything broken?"

She rolled her eyes before closing them and lolling her head against his shoulder. "No." she said, her eyelids flickering.

He saw vaguely out of the corner of his eye Klaus yelling abuse at the driver. Assumingly threatening him for information. Everything in him wanted to believe it was an accident but knew knew there were people with the initiative to try and hurt her. He groaned.

"What you groaning at now?" she murmured against his jacket.

"You've only been here hours and someone already tried to mow you down with a car." he said bitterly. "Go figure. Gotta love Phoenix."

"S'cool" she mumbled, barely coherent "I'm not dead yet."

"Not funny you know." he replied with a smile. If she could hold a conversation she probably wasn't concussed.

"Damon?" Caroline asked from behind him. "She okay? She's not like, brain damaged or something?" she asked, her voice shaking. She must have been shaken up by what had happened.

"I don't think so. You can never know with this one though." he said smirking, knowing she could hear him.

She chuckled weakly in his arms and lolled her head further against his chest.

Caroline sighed and pointed to her car. "I can't even drive you anywhere." she said regretfully. "I called a cab though."

Damon nodded his thanks briefly, still conscious of the girl in his arms right now. It was the second time he'd had her in his arms since they had met only hours ago. What was it about her? He sighed in relief as a cab pulled up in front of him.

Caroline was already loading the bags into the trunk, her face blank.

"Shouldn't you take her to hospital?" she said gently.

Damon looked down at Elena, wondering the same thing. Sure, she seemed okay but he wasn't trained as a doctor. He wasn't even trained in first aid. "I should take her home." he said to himself.

Caroline nodded and walked over to Klaus, wrapping a shaking arm around his waist.

He slipped into the cab, still holding Elena and ignored the looks he was getting from the driver.

"Hospital?" he asked concerned, his eyes locked on Elena's still form.

He shook his head sharply and ignored the look he received. "The Vagrants clubhouse" he said firmly, denying any further questions.

Eventually, after an awkward ride the pulled up just outside the gates. Clearly, the cab driver wasn't one for the club because his face was stony.

Damon glared at the driver and threw him some notes. "The extra's for you to bring in her bags." he snapped, smirking in triumph as the driver got out and resolutely doing as he was told.

"Elena. Wake up." he muttered as he slipped out of the cab. "Can you stand?"

Elena groaned and stood, unsteady on her feet stumbling slightly. "No, then." he smirked despite the situation and picked her up bridal-style for the third time that day.

"Can you not be an ass?" she said irritated.

"I doubt it." he said brightly, as he began walking towards the clubhouse. "You're dad is going to kill me." he pointed out sheepishly.

"I won't let him." she said as a ghost of a smile flickered across her face.

"DAMON. WHAT HAPPENED?" Grayson yelled at him from across the courtyard, his eyes wide with Giuseppe on his tail.

"Is she okay?" he panicked, looking unsure of what to do.

Giuseppe rested a hand on Grayson's shoulder attempting and failing to calm him down.

"She can hold a conversation at least. She still thinks I'm an ass." he said smirking slightly.

"You are an ass." Elena said lightly, her head still resting against Damon's chest.

"Damon, take her back to the house." Giuseppe ordered sharply. "We'll meet you there in an hour or so."

Damon nodded and headed towards the car park. "Can you at least get our bikes? They're at our depot in the city."

Giuseppe nodded while Grayson stared after the man who was holding his daughter in their arms.

* * *

She woke up with a pounding headache. "Ow." she moaned.

Damon chuckled beside her. "How's your head?"

"Just brilliant" she muttered darkly as she sat up and took in her surroundings. "where am I?"

He shrugged and leant back against the sofa "My house. Your Dad'll be up in a bit."

She sighed and dropped her head into her hands "He's probably losing his mind."

Damon smirked "Oh, he is."

"Can you be remotely serious for like, five minutes?" she snapped irritably. She couldn't deal with his attitude.

"Come on 'Lena, in the whole" he glanced at his watch "thirteen hours that you have known me, I've been serious haven't I?"

Only thirteen hours. That was abnormal. As cheesy as it sounded it felt like they'd known each other for years, or at least weeks.

"I got hit by a car. Practically. Can't you at least be serious in this situation?"

His face hardened. "I don't do seriousness. It makes everything too real."

She glanced at him, surprised by his honesty. "So you joke to cut through the tension to pretend it never happened?" she said, already knowing the answer.

He stared at her, his icy blue eyes wide. "Uh, yeah. Not a good strategy or something?"

She stared him down silently for a while. "It's not. You can't pretend something didn't happen."

"You seem like the type to face your problems, not run away from them."

"Yeah, well I learnt that the hard way." she said, her voice low.

He was staring at her in a completely different way, like her was seeing something new about her. Not bad different, not the 'oh-my-god-you're-really-a-freak' look, just a look in his eyes that seemed like he was viewing her differently.

She stared back at him, the companionable silence stretching between them.

It was broken by a door being swung open.

"Elena?" her Dad called through the house. "You okay?" he said and he crouched beside her, worry etched across his face.

She looked at him laughing, "I'm fine. Honestly."

Grayson scoffed. "What happened?"

She thought back, the precise memories not really clear. "I'm not sure. I think a car hit me or something."

Grayson's eyes bugged out their sockets. "Damon." he growled lowly. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, sure she loved her dad – especially now – but the whole protective thing wasn't cool with her.

"It didn't hit her exactly. She was leaning against a car and this other car appeared out of nowhere and rammed into the side of it."

"Did you get the driver?" Giuseppe asked lowly in a tone that suggested any answer apart from 'yes' wasn't good enough.

He nodded in agreement. "Klaus was on it." Giuseppe nodded and pulled out his phone as he headed outside to make a call.

"I'm going to kill the bastard." Grayson exploded suddenly, kicking the side of the sofa.

"It was an accident Dad." she said soothingly, trying to calm him down.

She was met with silence as the three men shared looks. "Right?" she asked weakly. She refused to believe someone was still after her and had found her that quickly.

Grayson simply squeezed her shoulders gently and muttered a rushed goodbye before walking out the door after Giuseppe.

She looked at Damon desperate for answers. He sighed and sat down beside her and cupped her face in her hands.

"I can't tell you everything, but I know that probably wasn't an accident. Just like that fire wasn't an accident."

She swallowed roughly and pulled away from his hands, putting distance between them. She couldn't think straight with him so close to her.

"Why do you do that?" he said softly.

She snapped her gaze to him. "Do what?"

"You sort of distance yourself. From everyone." he spoke gently, staring at his knees.

"If you get close to someone they always leave" she said quietly, her voice steady, "one way or another. Distance, situations, arguments."

He looked at her, his eyes so open it made her breath catch in her throat. He was looking at her with vague understanding and her heart ached for him.

"I haven't left you." he said, smiling a little.

"Yeah, why is that? You can't want to spend all your time stuck with me."

He looked at her in disbelief. "You're not the worst company in the world, Elena."

She leant back against the sofa, lolling her head against the cushions. Her eyes closed so she couldn't see the way Damon was staring at her.

"Just wait a couple days. Then you'll be sick of me."

"Is that an invitation?"

"More like a challenge." she smirked devilishly.

He leant his body more towards her, his face an open look of shock. "Are you challenging me, Gilbert?"

She cracked an eye open, still unaware of the way this man was looking at her. "Yep. I'm always right."

"And you really think I'll leave you?" he frowned, confusion clouding his eyes.

"Well that's your choice isn't it?" she smiled lightly.

He sighed exasperate. "Can you stop doing that?"

She rolled her eyes and glared at him. "Why?"

"Because one day, someone might actually want to have a serious conversation with you." he snapped.

She was taken aback by his bluntness, and the harshness of his tone. She narrowed her eyes. "And when I'm comfortable around that person, then I'll talk to them."

Her phone chimed then, alerting her that she had a text message.

"It's my dad" she frowned at the screen, "he wants me to stay here tonight."

Damon shrugged, though she didn't miss the spark in his eyes. "That's cool. I can make you up a bed now." he said, half standing up.

"Don't be an idiot." she said playfully. "I'll sleep here."

"You can't sleep on a sofa." he insisted.

"Have you felt these sofas? They're very comfy. And you forget I've not slept for longer than an hour or so since..." she trailed off, working out the time, "Two nights ago."

His eyes bulged. "Exactly! Come on, make me feel better and sleep in a bed." he said persuasively.

She pulled her knees up to her chest. "I don't want to sleep in a bed that's not my own."

"Then sleep in mine." he suggested waggling his eyebrows, half serious half playful.

She paused, actually considering it. It wasn't that she didn't want to sleep in a bed but she felt safer on the sofa for some reason. She didn't want to be alone in a strange room. It just didn't feel safe.

"I'll just sleep here." she said finally, refusing to complicate anything. Come on, the guy was gorgeous but she barely knew him.

Damon collapsed back onto the sofa. "You are so stubborn." he whined.

She smiled at him, acting as if butter wouldn't melt. "Oh, I know."

"You're right. I am sick of you." he deadpanned.

She made an indignant noise and threw a cushion at his head. Surprisingly, it actually hit it's target, bouncing off his face.

"You are so dead." he growled as he stood us. "So. Dead." before charging over to her, and jumping on top of her.

She squealed and rolled out form underneath him and charged around to the other side of the sofa. "Am I? I seem to be alive. You're losing your touch, Salvatore!" she screamed just before he came racing after her.

She bolted away, laughing freely. "This isn't fair!" she complained as she hid behind the breakfast island, Damon on the opposite side trapping her in the kitchen.

"Life isn't fair, babe. Get over it." he winked cheekily, darting to his left to try and grab her.

It turned into one of those, I go one way you got the other games, thoroughly irritating her. They had been stuck on opposite side of this bloody counter for at least five minutes.

"Okay. Truce?" she scowled grumpily.

"Truce." Damon laughed, his blue eyes alight with humour.

She sauntered past him and crashed onto the sofa, burying her face in a cushion.

"That's much better." he commented casually as he sat down next to her.

"Ass." she mumbled incoherently, hiding her smile in the cushion.

"Not a bad thing-" he started off saying before a loud bang shattered the atmosphere, leaving a deafening silence.

A tense silence stretched between them, both straining their ears to hear more. Another bang ripped through the air, this one much louder than the previous.

She froze, her mind refusing to work. She shrunk back into the sofa, knowing her face would have drained off all colour.

Damon stood up and pressed his finger to his lips and motioned for her to stay where she way before slipping off into the darkness, leaving her alone with nothing but silence fo company.

* * *

She strutted past him cheekily before crashing onto the sofa, hiding her face in one of the cushions. Man, she was really something. He wasn't especially thinking of his 'fuck 'em ,chuck 'em' routine but she was _sensational_. It wasn't just her looks thought, it was her fucking personality. She was so fiery and fierce with an actual sense of humour with a phobia of talking about anything that was remotely serious or could put you in a situation where you were actually close to someone emotionally.

She was every guys dream, he thought bitterly.

"That's much better." he remarked as he sat next to her, referencing to the fact her head was still stuck in a cushion.

"Ass." she muttered into the pillow.

He smirked to himself, glad she couldn't see the way he could barely keep his eyes off of her. "Not a bad thing-"

A loud bang echoed through the house, leaving a ominous silence lingering in the air.

They both froze, listening intently to the silent night. Another bang exploded, seemingly right outside the house.

It wasn't a bang like firework or something. It was a gunshot.

He glanced at Elena, who's face was pale and scared. He stood up, pressing his finger to his lips and attempting to motion silently to stay where she was. She seemed to understand because she stayed put and stayed silent as he slipped out the door.

A flash of movement caught his eyes. He charged after what he guessed was a hooded male. He silently thanked the gods for making him work out so often, as the attacker began to slow he closed the gap between them, grabbing him around the neck and bundling him into he wall.

"What the fuck was that?" he growled harshly.

He took a glance at the young man's face, realising it was a kid, no older than sixteen.

He sighed and realised him. He wouldn't beat up a kid, even if he did have a gun – or more likely a BB gun or something else.

"Were those shots you, kid?" he asked firmly.

He nodded, his eyes wide. "I was with my mates, they were shooting the tires across the block but they had heard the Vagrants president lived along here so they wanted to come try be cool and shoot the tyres." he spoke, tripping over his words.

His eyes narrowed. "Why the Vagrants president's tyres?"

The kid swallowed roughly. His hands shaking violently. "Just because." he said defiantly. "None of us have anything against him or the actual club but it's always been some stupid dare. Mostly for the jocks and people like that but it was basically to see who could shoot the most expensive cars tyres. Everyone knowns the president and his sons have awesome cars so we came along here."

"You're right" he said lowly. "I do have awesome cars."

The kid's pale paled further. "I-I-" he stuttered.

Damon sighed. "It's alright kid. You can go, but tell your little friends if I hear shots around here I will drag you to the cops myself."

"You're not calling the cops?" the kid cried, almost fainting with relief.

"Nope." he said. "What's your name kid?"

"Jeremy Donovan." he whispered quitetly.

"Matt's brother?" he questioned.

"Yeah, you know him?" he asked surprised.

So Matt's little brother didn't know he was a Vagrant. He stored that little bit of information away for blackmail later. "Sort of." he said non-committally.

Jeremy nodded and fidgeted awkwardly. "I'm sorry I shot your tyres."

Damon smirked and began walking away, ruffling his hair as he went past. "It was my dad's car. Not mine." he winked.

He practically sprinted back to the house and crashed into the living room to find Elena staring wide eyed at him.

"You scared the shit out of me." she said.

He smiled and sat down next to her causing his arm to brush against hers. Man, she was freezing. He grabbed a blanket from the back of the other sofa and wrapped it around her. "Warm up." he ordered.

Elena gratefully pulled the blanket closer, involuntarily leaning closer to him. Expecting her to move away, he was shocked to find her leaning closer.

"It was just some kid for a dare. Matt's little brother actually." he explained quickly, feeling she would want to know.

Some of the tension seeped out of her body, relaxing her slightly more against him. He laid back gently and hesitantly wrapped his arms around her.

"Shouldn't you go to bed?" she asked, her tone cold, but not icy. She was doing that distancing thing again, pulling away from him incase he left her.

"Nope. I'm staying here tonight. You're a danger magnet." he said leaving now room for argument.

She didn't even comment, she just rolled over and pressed her cheek against his chest causing his chin to rest lightly on the top of her head.

Within moments she seemed to be asleep.

"I won't leave you, Elena." he whispered quietly to her sleeping form before drifting off to join her in the land of sleep while unbeknownst to him, she lay wide awake in his arms, only finally falling asleep as his soft breathing led her there.


	6. You Need To Know

She stirred as the sound of a smashing plate and a string of curses rang through the house. She blinked her eyes several times to adjust to the bright light streaming in through the slanted lights. She rolled over, finding Damon's arms still wrapped loosely around her. She smiled gently at the thought before wandering through to the kitchen running a hand through her hair roughly.

"Hey. You must be Damon's new girl." a young man with a warm face said casually to her as he chucked the remnants of a once whole cup in the bin.

She rose her eyebrows and said nothing before reaching past him to attempt to work the coffee machine.

"Although, you were cuddling." he mused to himself out loud. "And Damon doesn't cuddle. Not fully clothed any way."

She snorted and smiled at the young man, noticing a striking pair of green eyes. "I'm Elena."

The man nodded slowly, his face blank. "Stefan." he replied before slotting toast into the toaster. "So. _Are_ you Damon's new girl?" he asked grinning widely. She liked this guy. He was like her old friend, Ben from L.A.

"What's it to you?" she asked laughing, smiling at Stefan. He really was a nice guy, albeit a little forward and she had no idea who he was.

He held out his hand for her to shake. "Stefan Salvatore. The younger, better looking brother."

She took his hand grinning. "How come I've never heard about you? I knew Giuseppe had two sons but I never heard your name."

Stefan shrugged and fidgeted with his fingernails. "I'm not into all that." he said evasively.

"Stefan!" a male voice yelled through the house. "You in here?"

"Yep. Kitchen." he called back, eyes drifting back to her face shyly.

"You ready to-" A man slightly older than both of them walked into the room and stopped short at the sight of her sitting at the breakfast bar. He waggled his eyebrows at her then turned on Stefan who was looking completely uncomfortable. "Who's this? Damon's new chick or did you finally score?"

Elena looked in disgust at the new arrival. "I don't have to be some whore to be here." she snapped.

He held up his hands in surrender, his honey like British voice way too slick. "Sorry princess. Its the norm around here. Michael." he also said by introduction.

She nodded curtly, no smile appearing on her face. "Elena."

Michael nodded, looking slightly apologetic. "You're too good for Damon anyway."

Stefan shot Michael a sharp look but she noticed it in a heartbeat. Michael had a problem with Damon. Damon probably didn't like Michael and Stefan was somewhat stuck in the middle.

She shrugged slightly, relieved when the toaster popped and broke the awkward silence that had stretched between them all.

Stefan smiled charmingly at her and handed her a plate of buttered toast. "Tah-dah."

She laughed easily and took the plate smiling. Michael shifted awkwardly and muttered something about being in the car before slipping out the door. Stefan smiled awkwardly.

"Sorry. Michael's..." he trailed off, apparently unable to find words to describe his friend.

"Blunt?" she offered grinning.

Stefan laughed loudly. "Very." he glanced at the door and smiled at her sadly. "I gotta go. It was good to meet you, Elena." he added softly.

She nodded. "Don't worry. I'll be around. Damon's new girl and all." she said jokingly.

He laughed again as he left the room. "See you around Elena!"

* * *

He woke to the sound of laughing voices from the next room. He frowned slightly and sat up, blinking his eyes against the early morning light.

The next thing he noticed was that he was alone. He felt an unexpected twinge of _something _at the fact Elena wasn't near him.

He zoned back in on the voices, mentally assessing who could be in his house this early. Grayson? His Dad? Stefan, maybe?

He stretched painfully, feeling his second night in as many days that he had spent of a sofa. He sauntered casually into the kitchen and leant against the breakfast island where Elena was currently sitting.

"We made it a whole twenty four hours" she said grinning widely, "And you've only been an ass a handful of times."

He shook his head and flitted past her and attacking the coffee machine until made some promising sounds. "It's more than twenty-four hours." he pointed out, unsure of what to say.

She scoffed and bit into a piece of toast in front of her. "Whatever." she mumbled through a full mouth.

"Did you just walk into my kitchen and help yourself to toast?" he asked sceptically.

"You were sleeping like the dead so I came through here and your brother made me toast." she emphasised the last word with a wave of her half demolished slice.

"So you met Stefan, huh?" he asked dryly, curious as to what she would think of his younger brother.

The coffee machine beeped twice. It was either broken or had made him coffee. He hoped for the latter as he grabbed two cups and filled them up. "Coffee?" he asked, holding one of the cups out.

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, he was talking to Michael and-"

Damon almost choked on his coffee. "Did you say Michael_?_" he said in a deadly quiet voice.

She nodded looking confused, "Yeah. Michael. Tall, oldish. Dark hair. British. They just left." she said slowly, munching on toast.

"And you say Stefan was with him?" he continued in the same even tone, all lightness and kidding long gone.

She nodded curtly, "You going to explain, or what?" she said shortly. So she wasn't one for being kept in the dark either. What. A. Shock.

"Michael is part of the Vengeful Souls." he stated quietly, hoping she might understand the implications of a friendship between his brother and a Vengeful Soul.

She nodded slowly, her face giving away no emotion or hints to what she was thinking. Even her eyes were clouded, leaving an impenetrable mask.

"I thought they weren't a problem." she said lightly.

He scowled. They _hadn't_ been a problem. They had been nothing more than a small club with only a few chapters scattered over the west coast until a few years ago when they started spreading like wildfire, setting up clubhouses and buying up property and snatching business deal from the Vagrants and many other clubs in various areas.

Long story short, they had expanded rapidly from west to east over America. For a motorcycle club to coexist beside another you have to ask permission – or gain some sort of agreement – from the dominant club of that area. The Vengeful Souls had done nothing. They originated in Phoenix, so as protocol they had met with Giuseppe and some sort of vague, non-binding alliance was formed to stop clashes or conflict of any sort. It should have stopped there, no complications.

He cursed silently under his breath.

"They weren't." he said bitterly. "but they expanded. They have made enemies in nearly every state with every major club holding some sort of grudge against them."

She looked at him, her eyes once again showing no hints to her thoughts. They were deep and dark and unyielding of any secrets they might hold.

"So it's bad." he added, not quite sure if she'd understood or not.

She rolled her eyes and stood up. "I gathered that."

He held his hands up in defence, leaning his back against the breakfast counter to face her again. "Hey, you looked like you didn't understand."

She smirked and walked away from him back through to the sofa and making herself comfortable as if she'd lived there her whole life.

"You quite comfortable?" he asked sarcastically..

She winked at him and stretched herself out with her hands over her head. "Very." she said slyly.

"So what did you think of Stefan?" he asked casually, sitting beside her and resting her feet in his lap.

"He's okay." she said non-committally.

"You're descriptive skills astound me." he dryly.

"I have much more interesting ones about you." she shot back.

"I'd rather you didn't tell me." he said grinning, knowing exactly what words she would come out with.

"They aren't all bad." she said smiling.

"So some are?"

"Yes." she said, her eyes glinting with humour.

He leant his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. "I wonder is my dad slept here last night."

"I didn't hear anything." she said shrugging before cracking a smile. "I can't believe you still live with your dad."

He glared at her, his mouth a grim line. "I don't." he said simply.

Elena made a noise of agreement. The kind of noise you hear from parents when their children tell them they're going to be President some day.

He tickled her feet lightly, making her squeal and squirm away from him. "I have an apartment silly. Grayson just wanted you to stay here so he knows where you are."

"Why didn't you leave?" she asked. God, that girl had a way with questions. She managed to ask questions like that without seeming weird or nosey – simply curious.

"Would you haven't wanted to be alone when we heard those shots?" he said darkly.

She frowned. "No."

"Exactly." he said smugly.

"You could have left afterwards." she pointed out quietly.

"Nah." he said shrugging, picking at a cushion next to him awkwardly hoping she would drop it. She did, but he could tell she wasn't done with the subject and she was right to. Why was some guy she barely knew refusing to leave her alone? She would have no idea. Hell, he had know idea why he wouldn't leave her.

She yawned widely suddenly, making him notice how tired she still looked.

"Hey." he said softly. "Go back to sleep." She looked at him and opened her mouth to argue. "Come on 'Lena. You're shattered. Go back to sleep." he cut her off swiftly. She yawned again and rested her chin in her hands and glancing out the window at the early morning sun.

"Mm. Fine." she mumbled her eyes already closed. He swore she was asleep in seconds. Her even breathing made him realise how tired he also felt. He wasn't a morning person and waking up so early two days in a row was not working for him. He closed his eyes and attempted to let himself drift off to sleep but he just couldn't fall back asleep once he was awake.

He scowled as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee and actually tasted how disgusting it was. He sighed and stood up and went to attack the coffee machine again, hoping it might actually make something drinkable this time.

He sat down on a stool and laid his head in his hands. Only waiting a minute before giving up on coffee and slouching back into the living room and crashing on to the sofa, smiling softly at Elena curled up with her head inches from his chest. He yawned and pulled a blanket over her and dropping off to sleep, a complete contradiction to his normal behaviour.

A million thoughts were still running through his head; each of a particular brown eyed girl.

* * *

"Elena?" came a shocked voice from above her. She cracked an eye open and sat up, pulling out of Damon's arms and immediately missing the warmth they held.

"Hi Dad." she smiled awkwardly. "Hey Giuseppe." she smiled at the other man after waking up in his son's arms.

"Damon." Giuseppe said lightly. She could practically hear the laughter in his voice.

"Dad? What's up?" he mumbled incoherently as he sat up slowly. "Grayson." he cleared his throat awkwardly. "How you doing?" he said, attempting to come across nonchalant.

Grayson glared at him stony eyed, eyeing the arm that was resting casually behind Elena's back, not quite touching her but not quite formal distance away.

Giuseppe chuckled. "Damon, no matter what you say he's still gonna remember how we find you."

Damon cringed and looked away, seeing Elena bury her face in her hands next to him. He bit back a smile. He liked the fact that his whole family had seen him sleeping with Elena in his arms. It was like he had proof or something.

"Come on Dad, he's the only person I know!" Elena laughed brightly. "Apart from all the people I had a five minute conversation with yesterday and Stefan."

Grayson brightened slightly. "You met Stefan?"

Damon tensed and shot a glance at his father, unsure whether to bring up Michael now or later. He sighed. Now was probably best.

Elena glanced at Damon who nodded, urging her to continue. "Yeah. I met him this morning." she paused and looked at her fingernails suddenly, as if they had become extremely interesting.

"He was with Michael." Damon said quietly.

Both men's heads snapped to Damon's face at the four words he uttered. "He wasn't." Giuseppe breathed out in disbelief. "Stefan wouldn't bring a Vengeful in here. Especially not while Elena's here."

Elena forgot all about her nails. "What do the Vengeful's have to do with me?" she asked shortly, staring between her father and Giuseppe before looking at Damon pleadingly.

"Everything and nothing." he sighed evasively. "We have no proof." he added in explanation after a exasperated nice escaped from Elena's lips.

Giuseppe cleared his throat and looked between the two young adults on the sofa. "The driver was connected to the Vengeful Souls."

"But that doesn't mean Elena in particular." Damon said, a strange sensation of worry building in his stomach.

The older met sat on the other sofa facing them, automatically making it easier to talk. Grayson rubbed his face with his hands and held it there. He looked older. More weary.

"No, but it's likely." Giuseppe said softly.

"They could have been targeting me." he insisted adamantly. "Or Klaus or even Caroline."

"Or Elena." Grayson said softly, staring at his daughter.

Elena watched the scene without a word. She pulled her knees into her chest and curled into a ball trying to keep it together. She wouldn't break. Not now.

"Wait." Giuseppe frowned to himself. "Are we sure it was Michael?"

They all looked at Elena expectantly. She sighed and briefly looked at Grayson before locking gazes with Damon. There was something about his presence that calmed her down. He had been there every moment. Every time something bad had happened she had looked straight to him for reassurance simply because he was the only one she could even think of trusting.

"Tall. Older than me but younger than both of you. British accent." she shrugged and hugged her knees tighter.

Grayson's eyes darkened and he stood up abruptly. "We'll figure it out." he said confidently but his eyes were worried and agonized. He didn't want to leave her alone.

She stood up slowly and hesitantly wrapped her arms around her father. He let out a sigh of relief and pulled her close. "Stay safe." he whispered quietly for only her to hear. She pulled back slightly so she could talk to him. "Where am I supposed to stay?"

Grayson frowned. "I would rather you didn't stay at mine." he said musingly. A wave of hurt ripped through her. Her own father didn't want her around. She pulled back completely. A flash of understanding appeared in his eyes. "because it's a well known place." he added quickly, diminished her hurt rapidly.

"So where am I supposed to go?" she said quietly. It didn't matter how long she stayed here and how many clothes she kept in bags. She didn't have a place to call home.

"You can stay here." Damon offered casually, while Giuseppe shook his head.

"Michael was in here today, Damon." he pointed out.

"I'll find you an apartment today." Grayson promised, dropping a kiss on her forehead and heading for the door. "You can go essential furniture shopping tomorrow and move in tomorrow night."

Giuseppe coughed to capture everyone's attention. "And what about tonight?"

Grayson frowned at Giuseppe, as if blaming him for causing a problem.

Elena sighed. "I'll find a hotel. Or I'll stay with Caroline or something."

Grayson opened his mouth to protest but Giuseppe was ushering him out the door without so much as a 'goodbye'

Damon struggled not to smile as Elena flopped down on the the sofa. He said down next t her and rested his hand along the back of the seat, just inches away from her shoulder.

"What we doing today?" he asked grinning.

Elena turned to look at him sceptically. "You don't have to spend all your time with me."

He stood up and smiling imploringly at her. "I know. We're going back to the clubhouse."

She shook her head in exasperation. Sure she was glad she actually had someone she could rely on but she did not know this guy at all and had spent every single moment with him. She almost smiled slightly to herself. It made coming to Phoenix slightly less heartbreaking under the circumstances.

* * *

"Hey." Matt said warmly to her as she stepped into the garage.

"Hi." She smiled at the blonde. He was a less intimidating biker than the other guys dotted around the crowded workroom.

"So what's up?" he asked casually, still mostly focused on his bike.

"Ah not much." she said lightly, leaning against the workbench. "You're one of the only people I sort of know." His eyes lit up as he looked at her. "So you know, I thought I should get to know some people and you're the only one I know who's around." she added hurriedly, not wanting him to get the wrong impression.

He went back to his work with a mildly put out expression. "Where's Damon?"

"Still half asleep. He went to get coffee." she smiled.

"Think he'll get me any?" Matt asked hopefully.

"Doubt it." she said chuckling. "His coffee sucks anyway."

"My coffee does not suck!" Damon said indignantly from behind her. "Hey Matt." he said absently as he handed Elena a coffee.

She chuckled as she took a drink. It wasn't actually that bad. Surprisingly. The one he'd made her at the house at been somewhere between bearable and disgusting.

"This is actually drinkable-" she started saying mockingly before the shrill ringing of her cell phone cut her off.

"Hello?" she asked curiously. She frowned as her Dad began rambling on incoherently – mainly because she wasn't listening. "Mmhm." she said, idly staring at her nails. She could hear Damon's laughter and feel his eyes on her but right now, she couldn't even focus on her dad's words. "Yeah." she said, as if she was actually listening.

"ELENA!" her Dad yelled through the phone, shocking her out of her daydream so suddenly she almost dropped the phone. Damon burst out laughing and grabbed her mobile off of her.

"Hey Grace. Elena was too busy staring at her nails to listen to you-" he started, grinning widely at her. "What?" he snapped, the smile gone in moments. "We covered this this morning, Grayson." he said tersely. "We know he was-" he broke off and glanced at Matt, sighing slightly. He motioned with one hand at her to follow him as he walked out the garage.

"Bye Matt." she said apologetically as she followed Damon into the actually clubhouse. She scowled at his back and jogged to catch up with him, grabbing the phone out of his hand and hanging up in one swift movement.

Damon span round and faced her with a stubborn expression. "Seriously, I can't explain right now."

She faced him down with her hands placed adamantly on her hips. "You can and you will."

He stepped closer to her so her lips were only centimetres away from his when she looked up to meet his gaze. "Do you want to know who is after you? Do you want to know who had been looking for you since you were a kid unnoticed? Do you want to know who tried to kill you yesterday? Do you really want a stranger to tell you that?" he hissed at her.

"Do you want me to go around Phoenix completely ignorant?" she countered.

"I'm not the right person to tell you this stuff!" he almost yelled at her.

"You know what?" she spat out vehemently. "I've spent more time with you at one time that I've ever spent with my own father. You're the only person who's _not_ a complete stranger to me. If anyone should tell me, it should be you."

That stopped him. The hard mask covering his eyes melted. "Come on." he said softly, holding his hand out to her. She eyed his hand suspiciously, not sure where this would end up with him explaining anything. He smiled sadly. "I don't know enough. Grayson only called to get us to go over to his office, they didn't tell me a thing." She sighed and took his hand firmly.

"Let's go then."

He shook his head and began leading then through endless hallways and up long slights of stairs. "Have you really spent more time with me than Grayson?" he asked hesitantly.

She sighed. "I've spent practically every minute since I arrived with you which is over twenty-four hours – I've met Grayson a handful of times and each was only a few hours at a time. He might be my Dad but I don't know him at all."

He didn't know what to say to her. The involuntary sadness that crept into her voice made her seem far older that twenty-two. He just squeezed her hand lightly and pushed open a door and led her into Grayson's office.

She walked in and saw her father sitting on a sofa, running his hands restlessly through his hair. He looked up and nodded at them both as they walked in.

"Start talking, Grayson." Damon ordered.

"Damon!" Giuseppe scolded him like a child. "Don't be an ass."

"Dad, come on. You can't start rambling a thousand words a minute on a phone about some connection with the Vengeful's and Elena and except me to be all chill about this."

She couldn't help but smile slightly, only smiling even wider when she caught Giuseppe smiling along with her.

"This isn't as serious as you're both making it out to be. Even Elena knows that." Giuseppe pointed out with a smile still on his face.

Damon smirked and pointed in her direction. "She has no idea what's going on. When Gray called her she was staring at her nails and not even listening. Just don't let it fool you, she can be e-e-e-e-evil." he trailed out the last word to make his point. She elbowed him playfully to shut him up. "See!" he exclaimed loudly. "Evil, I tell you."

"That's me, heart of darkness and all." she said to Damon while smiling at her Dad, trying to get him to see some humour.

"You're such a bad influence." Grayson grumbled under his breath.

Giuseppe grinned at her Grayson. "Who is the bad influence here exactly?"

"Him!" she squealed, pointing at him the same time he pointed at her. Giuseppe laughed, with loud full-bellied laughs that rocked the room.

Giuseppe leaned in and muttered in Grayson's ear. "Don't tell me you don't see it. They are exactly like Amanda and I were. They're exactly like you and Miranda were." he added in a undertone, so they wouldn't overhear.

Elena heard Miranda's name like they had screamed it in her ear and her head snapped away from Damon to her Dad. "What?" she asked.

Giuseppe waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing, just pointing something out."

Elena rose an eyebrow and opened her mouth to argue but Damon beat her to it. "Trust me when I say she doesn't like being kept in the dark, Dad." She burst out laughing and caught her Dad's sad gaze. She sat next to him slowly and placed her hand over his.

"I'll be okay." she whispered in his ear. He sighed and patted her hand with his free one.

"You need to know."


	7. Secrets

A tense silence stretched between the four of them. Giuseppe stood up quietly and placed a hand on Damon's shoulder. "Do you want us to go?" he said quietly causing Damon to glare at his father oddly.

Elena shook her head violently. "I'd rather you didn't," she said without meaning too, starting when she noticed the gaze of all three men on her. The first thing she noticed was the look in Damon's eyes; it was shocked and confused like Grayson and Giuseppe but there was something else just underneath – it was like a flicker of something that she couldn't quite place. She shrugged and suddenly became very interested in her nails again.

Grayson sighed and glanced at his life-long friend, unable to keep ignoring the looks between his daughter and his best friend's son. "No. Don't go you can help fill in the blanks."

"And Damon has as much of a right to know." Giuseppe said softly. Elena moved to sit beside Damon again.

"You mean you don't know?" she whispered in an undertone to him. He shook his head ever so slightly.

"I would have told you." He whispered back, leaning closer to her. "Are you sure you want me to stay for this?"

She nodded slightly, only just visible to Damon because he was watching her so closely.

Giuseppe smirked at Grayson, a knowing look on his face as he watched the two near strangers on the sofa whispered quietly to each other. He shot a look at his best friend clearly saying 'I-told-you-so'

Elena turned away from Damon but not moving any further away from him and looked expectantly at her father. Almost bursting out laughing when he just stared nonplussed at her.

"Dad." She said softly. "I have to know."

* * *

"_What do you mean he's a Vengeful?" Grayson yelled down the phone to Klaus. Damn slick Brit. "You're telling me the man driving the car that almost killed my daughter was part of the Vengeful's?" he bellowed._

"_No, Grayson." Klaus said through gritted teeth. "I'm saying he was _connected_. I do my damn research you know!" _

"_Then tell me what you found out!" he shouted. What was the point phoning for answers if you get none? Giuseppe sighed and grabbed the phone of him. "Fine." He said bitterly. "You try and get a straight answer then!"_

"_Klaus, I swear to god you better start talking." He hissed menacingly through the phone._

"_I was trying to tell him, Giuseppe!" Klaus said. "He just won't listen!"_

"_Klaus, be serious. If Caroline was possibly a target for the Vengeful Souls would you be calm?" he said reasonably. Silence echoed through the phone. He sighed wearily. "Get to the clubhouse. _Now_." He ordered before hanging up. "Can you stop pacing?" he said calmly to Grayson who was currently wearing a path into his carpet. _

"_No." he snapped. "Don't you get it? Yesterday Miranda burned to death in the one place I thought she was safe! Which was far away from any connection that could have been made between us! Elena would have died too is she hadn't been riding!" he sat down heavily on the arm of a chair running his fingers through his hair. _

"_Grayson." Giuseppe said firmly, standing in front of him. "Your daughter's mother just died, she needs you to be strong. Trust me when I say nothing good comes from falling apart."_

"_Elena's more like me than her mother than she realizes. She won't open up to a stranger, meaning she won't open up to me." He said hurt suffusing his voice._

_Giuseppe laid a reassuring hand on Grayson's shoulder. "You aren't a stranger to her."_

"_Yes I am." He said in such a pained voice it was hard for Giuseppe to hear._

"_Where is she anyway?" he said, steering the conversation into more comfortable territory. _

"_Damon took her back to your place." He said, his eyes far away._

"_Gray," Giuseppe started to say before the shrill ringing of Grayson's phone cut him off._

"_Hello?" he answered to an unknown number. _

"_Grayson Gilbert? This is Pasadena Police Department." A bored male voice came through the line. He shot forwards immediately giving the call his full attention. "We may have a lead on the fire your partner perished in."_

"_Well?" he snapped impatiently when the man didn't continue. "Don't tell me something like that then immediately- son of a bitch!" he yelled at the phone. "That bastard put me on hold!" _

_Giuseppe held in a laugh. "Who was it?" he said chuckling._

"_Pasadena Police Dep." He said bitterly, all laughter draining from the room. He held the phone back to his ear, praying they would give him answers soon. _

"_Afternoon Mr. Gilbert, I am John Somers" Somers… the name rang a bell somewhere deep in the back of his mind. "And chief investigator in your case." John paused and drew a deep breath. "One of the first places we checked for leads was the speed camera trained on the road outside the residence in question and the only vehicles leading along that road in the time period you gave us was a black van, which you say is yours, yes?" he asked, all in the same professional tone._

"_Yes." He spat out through gritted teeth. He had always hated police officers; they were too impersonal to deal with cases where people needed _answers_._

"_A black van and two motorcycles, and understand Mr. Gilbert-"_

"_Did you say _two_ bikes?" he gasped, untold anger coursing through him. It was a club who had done this and he would bet his right hand that club was, or was very closely connected to the Vengeful Souls._

"_Yes, Mr. Gilbert and understand I know of your connections within the biker community and this is why I have forwarded you an image of both bikes for you to confirm a name for the bikers, or the club or even just the state where they would have come from-"_

_Grayson motioned to Giuseppe, gesturing frantically to his laptop. "Check my e-mail!" he mouthed as clearly as possible. He must have understood because he was at his laptop in minutes searching through the unread messages. _

"_You do understand" he said patronizingly "that clubs can range form west to east coast of North America? I can't simply give you a state depending on which patch they have on them? It's a lot more complicated than that, and not exactly clear to read off of a speed camera image!"_

"_I understand Mr. Gilbert and since you mentioned it already you must know how difficult it will be to trace the biker and even if we did manage to trace him how difficult it will be to pin anything on him? And Mr. Gilbert, we, or I, know that biker attacks are rarely unprovoked. I know you will have a certain club or maybe even a certain person or chapter that could be responsible."_

"_And how do you know that exactly?" he said questioningly, slightly unnerved that a police officer knew so much._

"_I was in a club just over ten years go before I was forced to grow up. Why do you think I asked specifically for this case? Because I can _help._"_

"_You were a member of a motorcycle club once and now you're a police officer?" he growled. It was an unknown thing to hear of. You didn't leave a M.C just to join the police force. _

"_I wasn't full-patch member. I was eighteen years old and mildly involved in a feeder gang for a large club."_

"_And you joined the force because?" Grayson asked curiously. The name Somers was still ringing bells in the back of his mind._

"_I had to grow up." John said simply. "Now you know how I know things, and why I need you to look at those images."_

"_I will." He sighed. "I appreciate the help and I know it's almost pointless but-"_

"_You want answers." John said sadly. "I understand."_

"_Goodbye." He said finally before hanging up._

"_That was suspiciously informal for a police phone call." Giuseppe said casually, as he focused in on the image on the computer screen. "And why have you got images of a Vengeful on your laptop from some guy called John Somers?" he paused and cocked his head to the side. "I swear I know that name."_

_Grayson cursed violently and dashed to Giuseppe's side. "John's the investigator. He said images of the only two bikes that had passed the road that leads to the house."_

_Giuseppe paled dramatically. "You mean it was the Vengeful Souls? Again?" he breathed painfully quietly. Grayson nodded in confirmation, sinking into the sofa. "That's too much of a coincidence, Grace." He said unnecessarily. "Why did they try and kill them?"_

"_I don't care why right now, Gus." Grayson said tiredly. "I just care about how they found them."_

* * *

"Wait. So it was a Vengeful who tried to hit me with a car? And burned down my home?" Elena said slowly vaguely aware of the light pressure of Damon's hand resting just behind her shoulders.

"And killed Miranda." Grayson said softly, more to himself than anyone else.

Elena looked away again. Damon couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable she looked. How long would it be before she could even hear her mother's name? She had no one to talk to about her. Her father was practically a stranger to her. There was no one here she had even spent more than a week with for god's sake! He knew it would help if she talked to someone. After his own mother had passed away he'd spent hours with Stefan, not necessarily talking but just sitting with him knowing that there was at least one other person that knew how he was feeling.

Damon rubbed a hand wearily over his face. "How do you know it was one of the Souls who set the house alight?" His father and Grayson had completely glossed over that little tidbit of information. There was so much they hadn't covered yet. How had then know it was a Vengeful who burnt the house down? How did Klaus know the driver was connected to the Vengefuls? Why were they after Elena? Why had they wanted Miranda, and now Elena, dead?

"The cops sent me images of the two bikes that had passed the speed camera that night, one was Elena and one was a stranger with a Vegas Vengeful patch." Grayson explained quickly, but neither Damon nor Elena missed the look they shared. They weren't telling them everything for reasons unknown.

Elena immediately looked at him and he knew she had seen it too. He was sure she would have a lot to say about it if she got the chance.

"And Klaus?" Elena shot out sharply. Damon resisted the urge to smirk; the amount he had found out about this girl was overwhelming. She was surprisingly like Grayson, she refused to be kept in the dark and if you kept something form her she would pick up on it and apparently keep firing questions until you slipped up.

"We haven't got to that part yet." Giuseppe said soothingly, the same way he might calm Grayson if he was in the same state. Damon chuckled lightly, shooting a look at his father. Giuseppe laughed along with his son.

"What?" Elena said grinning at Damon.

"You're so like your Dad." Giuseppe answered. "Honestly, it's unreal how alike you are!" he said, looking a little like his son when he grinned so mischievously.

"Poor you." Damon whispered in her ear. She elbowed him in the ribs sharply regretting it an instant later when he prodded her from either side of her ribs causing her to squeal and cringe into him. She felt him relax behind her and casually wrap his arms around her and lean his chin onto of her head. This time she definitely didn't miss the knowing look Giuseppe shot her dad and the resigned expression Grayson wore on his face.

"Don't you dare tickle me again." Elena warned threateningly.

"You threatening me, Gilbert?" he asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Simply warning you. I'll stay here while we get our explanation if you promise not to tickle me." She said softly so her dad wouldn't overhear.

He smirked and tightening his arms slightly around her. "I'll be good." He whispered in an undertone. He looked up and locked gazes with his father's amused eyes. "Tell us how Klaus knew."

* * *

"_Where the hell is Klaus?" Grayson moaned irritably. "That man has no punctuality. None."_

"_Or maybe he had to come from all the way across town?" Giuseppe said absent-mindedly. He was semi-used to this side of Grayson, the panicked, over obsessive 'Dad' side of him. It came out before and after every visit to Elena._

"_How come you're always the reasonable one, Gus?" Klaus asked slyly as he walked into the office, dumping his helmet on a table. "Don't yell at me, Gray. I will show you what I know in precisely two seconds." He snapped clearly sick of the man's constant irritation towards him. He sat down in front of the laptop and began typing frantically. "This is what I was doing this whole time." He said with his eyes trained on the screen. "The driver's name was Logan Miller who happened to be one of my mother's good friend's sons so I recognized him from when I was younger. He was a few years older than me but went to the same school." He spoke quickly, still typing rapidly at the laptop._

"_Is this going anywhere?" Grayson snapped, cracking his knuckles the way he always did when he was tense._

"_Logan Miller, Carlton High School Reunion, 2010." Giuseppe read aloud from the search box. "How is this relevant?"_

_Klaus dismissed him with a wave of his hands as he brought up several pages on a school website and a couple articles, obviously searching for something. He let out a noise of victory as he clicked on an article and scrolled down until he found a picture of five people with the caption. "Left to right: Klaus and Elijah Michelson, Logan Miller, his wife Rebekah and brother in law Finn Adams."_

"_Where the hell is this going, Klaus?" Giuseppe asked, finally getting annoyed with the countless stream of non-lead. _

"_This took me all day. Do you want to know how many bloody names I searched in connection to Logan? It took me nearly three damn hours to find the name Finn Adams which-" he trailed off gesturing to the screen as he clicked on a final link, bringing up a news article from five years ago. "As you can see if pretty useful."_

"_Adams brothers Finn and Kol refuse to comment on brother, Michael's arrest last month." Read the headline._

"_How did you get access to this article?" Giuseppe asked incredulously. "I thought old stories were removed from the searches after a year or two? Don't you need the direct link after that?"_

_Klaus nodded in agreement. "They are but the second name Adams isn't all that common around here so I called an old friend of mine who works in the force now. He let me have a look around the records."_

"_And he knows you're a Vagrant?" Grayson asked, mildly amused by how many cops were willing to help out a biker._

"_Course, we were in the Riot Bunch together. He's only a couple years older than me." Klaus said casually. "He left when his Dad died and he had to take care of his little sister."_

"_So he gave you access to the records where you found this." Giuseppe said slowly. "Did you see anything else?" _

"_Nope. There might be more but the guy who helped me got a lead on some major case he's working on and needed his computer for e-mails and office for privacy or something."_

_Giuseppe could practically hear the wheel turning in Grayson's head as he thought hard about something, trying to fit pieces of everything together._

"_Did you hear anything about the case he's working on?" Giuseppe asked just to sate his curiosity._

"_Something about a fire I think."_

_A stunned silence spread across the room. "You're welcome. I did spend my whole day working on this." Klaus said rather bitterly as he stood to leave. _

"_Thank you Klaus." Giuseppe said, roughly clapping him on the shoulder._

"_No problem." He replied flippantly as he headed for the door._

"_Don't tell Damon. I know you guys are close but don't say anything to him." Grayson said suddenly. _

"_Why not?" Klaus and Giuseppe both asked at the same time. _

"_Because he will tell Elena." Grayson said sadly. "And right now she doesn't need more life changing stuff happening to her."_

"_I won't. Just call if you need anything." He said as he left the room. _

"_Gray, what have you figured out?" Giuseppe asked sharply, knowing the look his friend wore on his face._

_Grayson waved his hand and grabbed his phone and hitting the redial and putting it on speaker phone._

"_Hello?" John answered from the other end of the line._

"_John Somers, Riot Bunch recruit of 2001." He said steadily, internally daring for a contradiction. He heard Giuseppe curse in realization somewhere next to him._

"_Someone does their research." John sighed._

"_Isn't giving civilians access to confidential police records breaking some sort of rule?" Grayson asked smugly, grinning slightly. John had been a Rioter; he had helped Klaus and was open to helping him. He could be trusted as far as he could tell._

_John cursed good-naturedly. "I forgot about Klaus." He said simply._

"_You were a Rioter John, you can guess as well as I can who started that fire."_

"_Yes, but I have no knowledge of who you might have pissed off so badly they spent a heck of a long time searching for your family."_

"_I've pissed off a lot of people, I'm sure you know that."_

"_Yep, but who would search for long enough to find a trail that connected you to that house? Or even this county?"_

"_You ask like you already know the answer." Giuseppe commented._

"_And I'm sure you know it too." John said casually. "The Vengefuls."_

"_I've pissed off a lot of them too." Grayson said smirking, slowly easing into more relaxed conversation._

"_It's a start." John said sighing. "If I tell you not to tell anyone can I trust you won't? My sister depends on this job to stay in school and if I lose it she loses her future."_

_Giuseppe looked at him with pained eyes. It wasn't natural for him to keep things from Damon. Anything club related was shared with his son. Even Elena's existence had been trusted to the young man. Surely he could be trusted with the knowledge of a sympathizer cop? _

"_Not unless absolutely essential." Giuseppe said reluctantly. "Bye John."_

"_I'll call you with new leads, Gray." He said, causing a jolt to run through both men. He really was on their side, once a biker; always a biker. "Bye Gus." He added before hanging up._

* * *

"Imagine if Klaus hadn't recognized Logan." Damon said darkly. "Then we'd be screwed."

"He would have got his name though." Elena pointed out. "So he still would have stumbled on that article eventually."

"I know, but it would have taken longer." Damon murmured.

"It was sheer luck." Grayson said darkly.

"It doesn't all add up." Elena said frowning at her Dad. "How could he have managed to get access to a news article from all those years ago?" She noticed her Dad stiffen slightly. "I was doing a journalism course, Dad. You can only get access to news articles previous to three years through the news station or the police department." Grayson's jaw tensed even more. He hated lying to his daughter, he knew that much already.

"It's Klaus." Damon chuckled. "Caroline probably snuck him into her mum's work or he charmed his way into a news station."

Giuseppe chuckled lightly, emphasizing the likeness between him and Damon once more. "He's right. That does sound like Klaus."

"It does, doesn't it?" Grayson said grinning, flashing a look at Giuseppe briefly. Damon was never too inquisitive; he'd stopped asking questions when the answers got scary. Elena on the other hand seemed like she would dig and dig and dig until she found what she was looking for – no matter the consequences.

"Is that all?" Elena asked wearily. She was comfortable lying in Damon's arms and was on the verge of dropping off to sleep.

"Yeah, for now that's all we know."

"Is that everything you know?" Elena asked sharply, watching the two men's reaction closely. Grayson looked away and told her that 'Of course that's everything' and Giuseppe stiffened slightly and glanced at Damon with a tensed jaw.

She pulled herself out of Damon's arms much to his dismay and stretched her arms above her head. She had been sitting curled up for hours while Giuseppe and Grayson talked and answered her and Damon's hundreds of questions. Damon stood up behind her and placed her hands on her shoulders and steered her towards the door.

"I'm hungry." He said from behind her. "And I'm guessing so are you."

"Starving." She said and they made their way into the courtyard.

"Good." He said as he shoved on a helmet and swung his leg over a dark grey bike. "Come on. We're getting takeout."

"This isn't you're bike is it?" she said, circling it appreciatively. "It's ni-i-i-ce."

"It's mine, having your Dad President of a motorcycle club has it's advantages." He said grinning as he grabbed her hand and pulled her over. "Spare helmet is over there." He pointed to a shelf in the back corner of the room. "Go put it on, we're ordering takeout."

"You're bossy you know that." She said dryly as she pulled on the helmet and jumped on the bike behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist tightly.

"I've been told." He said smugly, managing to make everything bad she said about him sound good. She shook her head and prodded his ribs before he started the bike and flashed them away into the city.

* * *

"You've got a nice place." Elena said appreciatively as she sat curled up on his couch munching on Chinese food.

"Thank you." He said grinning as he sat down next to her, now dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. "Here." He said, chucking a dark t-shirt at her.

She picked it up and raised her eyebrows questioningly at him. "What's this for?"

"To sleep in," he said, grabbing her food off of her and eating it himself. "You can stay here for as long as you need and go to whatever Gray got you when you get it set up."

She sighed and stuck her tongue out at him as she stood up and made her way to the bathroom. He stared after her, still eating her Chinese. This was all new to him. He didn't have friends that were girls… he just didn't. He had countless one-night stands that meant nothing to him and were never thought of again. He didn't sit in on Friday nights and order Chinese take away with girls. He just didn't. Man, she was gorgeous though. Absolutely. He almost choked on his food when she emerged from his bathroom dressed in his t-shirt with only her underwear on underneath. She joined him on the couch and grabbed an unopened carton and began eating it with her amazingly long legs tucked beneath her.

"My place better be as nice as this." She said casually looking around the room.

Damon snorted and nudged her with his foot "No chance."

"You know you're getting roped in on helping me move everything around right?" she said grinning evilly. He sighed and leant his head back against the back of his sofa.

"I thought you felt bad about me spending all my time with you?"

She shrugged and put her food down. "I figure you'll leave when you get sick of me."

He pulled his head up and looked at her. "Don't hold your breath then." He said, grinning widely at her.

"You should smile more." She commented absent-mindedly. "It's nice."

He froze and raised his eyebrows at her, causing her to laugh in embarrassment. "Well you should laugh more. It's nice." He scooted closer to her and rested his head in her lap. "You don't have to sleep on the sofa again you know." He said, trying his hardest not to sound like he was trying to hit on her.

"You just want me in your bed so you can try sleep with me." She said seriously, but her eyes told him she was playing with him; they sparkled with humor, dancing in the faint light of his apartment.

"Nah." He said with his eyes closed. "I just don't want to sleep on the sofa and I'm kind of used to having you around…" he trailed off and let his comment sit for a few moments.

"Well, I wouldn't want you to suffer would I?" she asked rhetorically and she stood up, making his head moved from it's very comfortable position. She held a hand out impatiently to him. He took it gently and towed her to his bedroom before collapsing onto his bed. It felt like heaven after two nights on a sofa. Elena climbed on after him and curled up in his side. His arm curved around her and pulled her close purely out of reflex. She relaxed in his arms and let her eyes drift close.

He couldn't help but wonder what it as about this girl that made it possible for him to actually talk to her and laugh with her and actually get to know her. He would never admit it to anyone or even say it out loud but there was something strangely comforting about the way her head rolled perfectly into the crook of his neck and the way his cheek rested on the top of her head in just the right way.

"Damon." She said quietly, her voice not clouded with sleep at all. "Do you think there's something they're hiding from us?"

He sighed and rolled his head further over so his lips were practically touching her hair. "Yep." He said softly. "But we'll talk in the morning." He said quietly.

"Yeah." She whispered. "Night Damon." She murmured against his neck, her lips moving against his skin in a whisper of a kiss.

"Yeah." He murmured into her hair. "Goodnight Elena."

* * *

_Okay, to me this makes sense but then again – I wrote it. That was a lot of info in one chapter._

_Giuseppe and Grayson have kept John a secret from Damon and Elena so they know all the information but not necessarily how it was obtained._

_I would also really appreciate opinions on this one. I thought explaining through flashback would make it a little more interesting and I could let you get a glimpse of Grayson/Giuseppe's feelings and personalities. I can of course just explain through present conversations in the future if you would prefer that. Let me know!_

_I wrote this in one sitting and wasn't finished until roughly 3 in the morning, sorry for any mistakes but there are only so many times you can read something without wanting to rip your eyeballs out._

_-E _


	8. Give Or Take

_Just a head's up: I hate most of this chapter..._

_-E_

* * *

"Okay." Damon said after a few minutes. "I can't sleep now. Thank you very much." He said sarcastically.

"You're welcome." Elena said, laughing as she sat up against the headboard. "Why can't you sleep?"

"Because I can't figure out what they would hide from us." He said exasperated. "There is nothing Gray asks Giuseppe to keep from me. I knew about you – not you're name or anything specific but I knew Gray had a daughter and I knew about Miranda." He said as he stared at the ceiling.

"What did you know about her?" Elena asked quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.

"He would tell me stories about when he, Gray and Miranda were all kids." He grinned and sat up. "They were best friends since they were all the same age and their dad's were all part of the Vagrants." He touched her chin gently and pulled her to meet his gaze. "They would play hide and seek in the waste land around the clubhouse." He smiled at her, trying to make her remember the good things about her mum. "My dad and your mum used to always team up on Gray and attack him from behind. I remember one night at a barbecue a few years ago the three of us sat up talking about everything. Give them a couple beers and they'll tell you anything." He laughed remembering the night they had talked until dawn. "Giuseppe told me about my mum and when they were kids. She hated Miranda, Grayson and Giuseppe until Giuseppe finally grew up and got to know her. Gray told me about how they had all grown up together and been inseparable for most of their lives. They were like a little family of their own as kids. They still act like kids most of the time."

"I feel like you know Grayson better than I do." She murmured sadly. "And as if you know more about Miranda that I do. She never talked about her past." She said quietly, never breaking eye contact with him. "It was like she didn't want to remember what it had been like before me."

"She wouldn't want you to be longing for a life that wasn't safe. The way they describe it, it seems like they had an amazing childhood." He said gently, desperately trying to let her know she could talk to him.

"I know, but a motorcycle club like this is like a family. You grew up with Tyler and Matt and probably even Caroline." She said quietly, her eyes far away. In the short while he had known her she had successfully distanced herself from everything remotely emotional or serious. This was the most open she had been with him, and he doubted she would be as open any time soon.

"Family is family, Elena." He mumbled to her. "I had mine growing up and you had yours."

He saw her grin split across her face even in the darkness of his room. It made him smile too. "I was an only child so when I found people my own age I stuck to them like glue." She laughed brightly. "There was one guy, Jake, who was older than me but for some reason I never stopped bugging him. He gave up trying to get rid of me and let me hang around him and his friends. The people I met while constantly following him around when I was three years old are still my some of my best friends. We grew up like a family." The smile slid dramatically off of her face. "I didn't get to say goodbye to him. I just had to leave." She spoke in a monotone, staring at a blank piece of wall behind his head. "The house was burning and suddenly Grayson was behind me begging me to drive and leave and all I could do was jump onto that bike and drive here."

"You'll see them again." He promised her. "You won't be sad forever, Elena." He whispered in her ear.

"It's just... She was everything to me and in a heartbeat that was gone. I spoke to her on the phone just before it happened." She laughed forcefully and she wiped away tears that hadn't even fallen yet. "She was yelling at me because I had driven to San Clemente. I told her I loved her and when I got back she was gone. In a heartbeat."

"I can't say anything that will make it easier, Elena." He murmured in her ear. He wouldn't tell her how sorry he was. It was just empty words unless there was meaning behind it. "I just know you won't be sad forever."

"Well thank you." She said lightly, trying to move off topic. She slid down so she was lying on her back again and rested her head in his lap. He tried not to think anything of it but the longer he knew her the more this _feeling _became obvious. He cursed mentally. This girl had gotten under his skin in less than two days.

"What would they even hide from us?" he mused aloud after a comfortable silence stretched between them.

"Something someone told them to keep hidden." She pointed out.

"Or _someone_ they want to keep hidden." He added lightly, gently winding his arms around her, noting that she tensed slightly for a moment before relaxing back into his arms.

"That's more likely." Elena quietly said. "There are holes in their story. A friend of mine worked in the police dep. when I was in L.A – he was a life saver when I needed papers on something that happened years ago." She chuckled lightly, lolling her head back against his shoulder. "But it wasn't like I could just walk into his office and access the archives – you needed a security code that changed every week to get into the archive room where they were kept, both written and electronic."

Her words washed over him, the meaning lost on him. "So?" he asked confused. "What's the big deal?"

She rolled her eyes and elbowed him softly. "Use your brain, Damon! How could Klaus have gotten access to that article?"

"Through Caroline." He said, still completely missing the point. She sighed and still his arms turned around to face him.

"The security code won't just stay the same." She said slowly, as if talking to a child. "How could Caroline have the security code for each new week, or month or however often it changes?"

It suddenly dawned on him. He was being so slow today. He blamed Elena for the effect she was having on him, it was making him slow and completely oblivious to everything going on around him.

"He probably has someone on the inside, like you did."

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" she cried out mockingly clapping her hands excitedly.

"Oh shut up." He said, smiling.

"Come on, Damon. You asked for that!" she said giggling continuously.

"I'm tired!" he said defensively, grabbing her around her waist and hugging her in a bear hug. "You're a genius, Gilbert!"

"I know." She said smugly, relaxing against his chest. "I just don't get why they would keep it from you." She mumbled.

He sighed and absent-mindedly began stroking her hair lightly. "Neither do I."

"Did you see the way they were acting?" she said suddenly. "They kept giving each other looks like they were hiding something-"

"Which they are." He said grinning. "Didn't we just cover that?"

"Stop being an ass." She said against his chest.

He pouted. "It's not my fault. I grew up around Vagrants, it goes with the territory that I'm an ass."

She laughed sweetly. "Your brother isn't an ass."

"Well he isn't a Vagrant." He pointed out reasonably.

"Why is that?" she asked quietly and almost hesitantly. "How come he's so out of the whole community he didn't even realize he was inviting a Vengeful into his house? Surely he must know about them"

"He never wanted it. He likes the bikes and the atmosphere it's everything else he has a problem with. You hear about motorcycle clubs all the time but there are so few like the Vagrants or the Vengefuls. We don't just ride; a lot of us are criminals, either current or exes. He hates the criminal aspect of it, the drugs, the guns and the money." He drew a deep breath. He'd never explained to anyone about his brother. If it came up in conversation he brushed it off and moved the conversation in a safer direction yet here, lying in the darkness of his bedroom curled up with Elena he felt he could confess anything and nothing would change.

"What about you?" she asked softly, her fingers tracing circular patterns on his stomach.

"I can't say I'm crazy about it," He said sighing dejectedly. "But it is what it is."

"Yeah." She said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

"Yeah." He echoed softly just for something to say as he rested his cheek against her hair.

A silence stretched between them. It wasn't a silence of unanswered questions or mistrust nor was it a silence of awkwardness where neither party knows what to say next.

It was a silence of comfort. The type of silence that stretches out between fragments of conversation late at night where no one is quite ready to say something else yet each of the participants know that if they were to say something the conversation would continue in the same quiet manner as before. It stretched between them leaving them private in their own thoughts yet joined in some, unknown way that only some people are lucky enough to say they have experienced.

* * *

A loud beeping erupted from the bedside table next to her ear. It rang on for several, agonizingly long seconds before cutting out, leaving welcomed silence for barely a second before a man's voice rang out into the room.

"_For fuck's sake, Elena! I'm freaking out here! Your house is a pile of ashes and _no one can get a hold of you_! My mum got a call saying Miranda died in that damn fire! Everyone thinks you're dead or kidnapped Elena! That fire was arson and now you're missing! I swear to God if you-"_

Then the machine cut him off.

She sat up immediately, shaking as she grabbed her phone. 32 missed calls. 18 texts. 25 voicemails. Mailbox 80% full: delete?

Her phone began ringing almost straightaway afterwards. Her thumb went automatically to accept before she something stopped her. She glanced at Damon who was still asleep and muted the call, unable to bring her self to deal with everything from back home. She understood how panicked everyone would be but she just couldn't answer that call from Jake. She was here in Phoenix and Damon was able to make her smile and laugh and forget the rest of the world for five minutes.

"_Please answer your phone Elena. I love you so much and I just need to know you're okay." _

She buried her face in her hands and turned her phone on silent. She felt a soft hand on her back before he pulled her into his arms.

"Why didn't you answer?" he asked quietly.

"Because I can't deal with them yet." She whispered. "It's too real if I have to talk to them all and tell them what happened and why I'm here and that I'm not coming back!"

"If I tell you I'm glad you're not going back will it make you smile?" he asked hopefully, turning her around so she could face him. She couldn't help but smile lightly. "Result." He said smugly.

Her phone began ringing again, this time it was Sam from the ringtone. She was even less willing to answer now. Her other guy best friend was probably much more panicked and freaking out.

"_Mailbox full? What the hell, so she isn't even going to get this message?" _Sam scoffed into the answering machine._ "Fine. My best friend could be dead for all know and I can't even leave her a damn message because I bet Jake took up all the damn room." _The distinctive click rang through the room, leaving her and Damon struggling not to laugh.

"Your friends seem…" Damon began slowly, amusement coloring his voice.

"Persistent?"

"Little bit," he said grinning. "Come on Lay, call them back,"

"Damon." She said stubbornly, trying to fight the anxiety building in her stomach. "I can't-"

He clamped a hand over her mouth. "Next time they call you will answer or we will drive to Pasadena and you will talk to them."

She smiled and pushed his hand away. "You'd really drive all the way to Pasadena with me?"

"Course." He smirked. "I've always wanted to go to L.A. And they can't exactly come here can they?"

She sighed and took her phone slowly, hitting the voicemail speed dial.

She started with the earliest messages, just general 'hey, let's go for lunch' mundane stuff which gradually grew more and more agitated. She moaned in irritation. She couldn't even listen to the rest. The last thing she had wanted to do was upset one of her best friends. She stared at the phone before turning it off and wandering over to Damon.

"What you doing?" she asked casually as she prodded his shoulder.

"We" he announced in triumph "are going to L.A." he finished with a final dramatic click and a hit of the keyboard.

"What?" she exclaimed in shock. "Did you honestly just book us flights to L.A?"

"Yep." He said, annoyingly casual, popping the 'p'.

"Damon!" she cried indignantly. "We can't go back to L.A! Why do you think I left?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, cupping her face gently in his warm hands. "Elena." He said exasperatedly. "We're not moving there or anything. Your friends are worried, you didn't get to say goodbye. It's a win-win."

"I can't go to L.A Damon." She protested weakly, finding it hard to find reasons not to go as she stared into his hypnotizing blue eyes.

"Take a break, Elena." He said enticingly. "Just stop and take a break from the real world for five minutes." He bored his eyes into her smirking smugly. "Five minutes." He said temptingly.

"Is it even safe to go back?" she asked suspiciously.

"They know you're here Elena. If you're not out for a few days after almost being hit by a car it's gonna be accepted."

"You just wanna go to L.A don't you?" she teased him, butting her shoulder into his.

He looked away, pretending to be sheepish. "You caught me." he scoffed and shoved her shoulder playfully as he walked into his room and began chucking random clothes into a bag.

"Wait wait wait." She gasped hurriedly. "When the hell are we going?" He grinned mischievously, waggling his eyebrows. "You're completely spontaneous and impulsive did you know that?" She couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Never in such endearing terms but yes, people have told me."

"Damon." She warned threateningly.

He sighed and zipped his bag up and throwing it over his shoulder. "It leaves this afternoon."

She narrowed her eyes. "How soon this afternoon?"

He shrugged and glanced at his watch. "A few hours. Give or take." He said vaguely.

"How soon is a few hours?" she almost yelled, trying not to laugh. Not one of her friends had ever been so impulsive before. It was so very… Damon to spontaneously book flights just so she could see her friends.

"I don't know. Give." He said infuriatingly, wandering around his room and closet throwing on clothes.

"Really Damon?" she said mockingly.

"Take then." He said casually, as if he was oblivious to how annoying her was being.

"Damon!" She heard him laugh from inside his closet as he walked out with his button up shirt undone.

She resisted the urge to stare at his chest. Of course she had suspected he would be built but his perfectly sculpted chest was beyond her imagination.

"You're staring." He commented easily as he buttoned his shirt up.

"Tit for tat." She retorted grinning, referencing to the many times he had checked her out – especially since they woke up. She had seen him staring her legs up and down.

He stared her up and down obviously, winking at her and smiling appreciatively. She felt heat rush to her cheeks and she had to look away. _Damn it, Gilbert_ she thought furiously _Get it together!_

She sighed and wandered into the bathroom where her clothes lay from last night. She pulled on her jeans reluctantly and slipped hoodie on and pulling up the hood to try and hide her messy tangle of hair.

She returned through to the kitchen and prodded Damon's back muscles irritatingly. "Let's go." She whined. "I'm a girl, I automatically need more time to pack that the five minutes you took. _And_ we need to tell Grayson." She grimaced, not looking forward to that conversation at all.

"We don't need to tell him you know." Damon muttered slyly, handing her a toasted bagel. She burst out laughing.

"You're kidding right? He would freak out!" she giggled, munching on her breakfast.

"Giuseppe will calm him down." He said lightly, his mouth full of bagel. "He'll put the pieces together. If we both suspiciously disappear it won't take long for them to figure out we're together."

"He'll still freak out, maybe even more if he realized we _both_ disappeared." She pointed out smiling.

"I leave all the time. Giuseppe knows I always come back in a few days, he's used to it. He'll take care of your Dad." He shoved the rest of his bagel into his mouth. "Rightesgoh." He yelled incoherently, slapping his thighs.

Elena erupted in hysterical laughter; almost choking on the bagel she was eating – much more civilly. He swallowed thickly through his own laughter. "What was that?" she said, mocking him. "Didn't quite catch that through the pieces of bagel flying out of your mouth."

"I said:" he said grinning as stood up and stood in front of her with his bag sitting over his shoulder again. "Let's go!" he stooped in a kissed her cheek for just a fraction of a second before he darted out of the room, another slice of toast in his hand as he ran out the door.

She froze, momentarily locked in place by the tingles of electricity that were now spreading like wildfire through her veins. She shook herself mentally before walking laughing out of the door, pulling it shut behind her.

* * *

"You took your time." He said slyly as he leant against his bike casually. In truth, he was slightly relieved for the few moments of solace. His reaction to her was unnerving him. He had kissed her on the cheek purely out of instinct. It had been a flippant and completely platonic – until he felt the reaction he'd had to it. Until he'd felt the electrifying jolt that had run down his spine and finally woken him up. He let people into his bed, he had slept with multiple women but how often had he sat with them, talked to them and essentially told them things he had never told anyone? Elena was something, and she was more that she accounted herself for.

"I don't have the hyperactive energy you posses." She said dryly, running her fingers through her hair to try get rid of some of the waviness.

"Don't." he said automatically, grabbing her hand and pulling it away. He shrugged and dropped her hand suddenly, running his hand through his own hair. "It's nice wavy. And sorta messy."

She burst out laughing and climbed onto his bike, smirking at his confused expression. "I'm driving." She announced finally.

He sighed and climbed on behind her, wrapping his warm hands around her waist. "This is saying a lot about my opinion of you." He muttered, grinning at her. "I let no one touch my bikes."

* * *

"Seriously." He said as he pulled his helmet off outside Giuseppe's house, making his hair stick up in what she thought was incredibly sexy. "The last time I was on a bike someone else was driving it was behind my dad when I was about 10 years old."

She pulled of her own helmet and didn't even bother trying to tame her hair. She knew it would be a wild tangle, making her look about as attractive as Bigfoot. Of course, she didn't notice the way Damon was eyeing her with dark eyes and a slight smirk. "Well I'm glad I could break that record after…?" she trailed off, making it a question.

"Subtle way of asking how old I am." He grinned and nodded to her. "Kudos. And after fifteen years."

Twenty-five. That wasn't much older that her. He spoke with maturity and understanding at times that made him seem older, but then there was the rest of the time – where he acted like a kid.

"This is the part you tell me how old you are." He said in a stage whisper, exaggerating the secrecy he was mocking.

"Twenty-three in a couple months actually." She said chuckling, again finding his eyes unable to look away from.

He nodded slowly, something clearly running through his mind. She waited with her arms crossed until he snapped out of his daydream embarrassed. "Go get ready!" he ordered. "You have ten minutes!" he yelled at her retreating frame.

She shook her head and walked into the living room awkwardly fishing out a bag she had bought the other day and shoving it full with some clothes and makeup.

"I wondered who's the bags were." Stefan's voice said amusedly from the doorway. She turned and grinned at him, waving a greeting at him.

"Damon's obviously." She said dryly, still rummaging to find everything she might need. "He just sent me in to get them. It's all a cover." She whispered loudly.

"Ah." He whispered back. "Why are we whispering?"

"Because it's a secret." She whispered, pressing her finger to her lips. "Now, shh."

He saluted her mockingly, clicking his heels together. "Yes, sir!"

She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed another outfit for her to change into. "Good. Now you never saw me here. It was all in your imagination. You dreamt it all."

He sighed dramatically. "You mean I dreamed you coming here? _Damn_." He cursed, his eyes glinting happily. She laughed happily and waved goodbye to him as she walked towards the bathroom to change into another outfit. "Bye Stefan!" she shouted over her shoulder.

She returned to the lounge now dressed in dark denim skinny jeans, black over the knee boot and a grey over the shoulder jumper. She slipped on her typical leather jacket and threw her bag over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked the same, as always but there was something subtly different. She looked older, wilder, and brighter. Her hair was long and shiny, cascading down her back in loose waves. She grinned and walked out of the door back towards Damon.

She secretly glowed with triumph as his jaw dropped just a centimeter and his eyes widened. She walked up to him and folded her arms, copying out his typical trademark smirk.

"See something you like?"

He shook his head softly at her, not at all in a bad way as far as she could tell. He just laughed and jumped onto the bike and pulled his helmet on and snapping the visor up. She climbed on after him, surprising herself at how comfortable she felt with wrapping his arms around him. "To the airport!" she ordered before she pulled on her helmet and placed her arms back around him as he kick started the engine.

She laid her head softly on his back as the city flashing by them, lights blurring into lines ghostly lines and noises blending to one chorus of shouts and cries and the occasional drunk singing.

Even thought she was leaving Phoenix to return to what she had thought was home all she knew what that she felt like she was leaving her something behind, something that urged her to go back and hide away.

Maybe, even under the painfully cruel circumstances she had found her way here to the places she ought to be. Maybe she had finally found her way back home.


	9. Trigger

_OMG, I UPDATED. Jokes. Lol, hi. Enjoy._

* * *

She leant her head back against the headrest anxiously and closed her eyes tightly. She had forgotten how much she hated flying until this very moment. All through the ride to the airport, throughout the check-in, the security and all the endless waiting in the departures lounge she had forgotten all about how it made her shake in fear and remember. It had been years since she'd been in a plane and yet she still remembered the gut wrenching fear that overtook her and remained in her stomach for the whole flight. She had been fifteen years old when the plane she had been travelling in plummeted to the ground; she had been old enough to know what was happening, to know she might not survive. How long did it take people to get over something like that? The plane made a sudden jolt forwards and her eyes shot open at the same time her hands flew to the arm rests, gripping them tightly and digging her nails in.

"Ouch." Damon said from the seat beside her, grinning at her; his eyes sparkled playfully.

"Sorry sorry." she muttered haphazardly, releasing her hands and clasping them tightly together in her lap. He breathed out slowly as if just realizing something and turned in his seat to face her.

"Elena." He said in the usual way he said her name; as if he knew something she didn't.

"What?" she snapped, anxiously tapping her nails irregularly against her thighs.

"Elena." He repeated as sighed under his breath and lifted the armrest that separated them both, up and placed his hands reassuringly on her shoulders. "You scared of flying?" he said softly, his voice for once devoid of any jokiness.

She turned to meet his gentle gaze and nodded her head once, "Yes." She breathed out shakily, gripping her thighs firmly.

"There's nothing to be scared of, Elena." He said reassuringly, tilting her chin up to look at him with the tip of his finger. "The physics behind planes is pretty set, these things don't just drop out of the sky."

"They can." She muttered quietly

"They don't, Elena." He argued stubbornly. "Planes don't just fall out of the sky. It's incredibly rare, especially nowadays."

"I was in a plane crash when I was fifteen." She whispered, staring at him sadly. Shock clouded his eyes and he pulled her closer to him, burying her face into his chest as his arms wrapped around her back.

"Shhh." He said, more to himself than to her. "You'll be okay. I promise you." He murmured into her hair, rubbing her lower back softly.

"I know, it's just…" she trailed off and pressed her face closer to Damon, his presence comforting and soothing her more than anything else ever had. He cupped her face and forced her to look at him. "I was old enough to know I might die." She gasped out at last; shocked as she felt tears building up in her throat.

"Don't think about it." He winked at her, slipping back into his comfortable routine. "Think about me instead, fulfill your fantasies."

She snorted and shook her head, disbelievingly. "Yeah, about how much of a cocky ass you are."

He waggled his eyebrows at her and leant back against the seat, in a relaxed position. "There you go. Think about my ass."

She burst out laughing and leant back slowly, trying to feel more at ease. She tensed up as the plane began taxiing along the runway – when they were in the air that was it, there would be no going back. She breathed deeply in and out, once again trying to calm herself. She gasped in shock, as quietly as possible, as the plane picked up speed. She could practically feel her heart beating out of her chest as she mentally counted down the seconds until they were in the air.

She squeezed her eyes shut and felt her stomach drop as the plan lifted off of the runway. She could feel the familiar gnawing sensation building in her chest, along with the knot of tension in her stomach.

Damon lifted the armrest again – they had been told to put it back in position before take off – and moved closer to her so he was angled towards her, his legs resting against hers. He wrapped an arm around her back, gently massaging her neck with one hand.

"Sir, if you could place the armrest back to the original position." A snobby airhostess ordered, staring him up and down appreciatively.

"Can't you see how terrified she is?" he snapped back, not moving to take his arm from around her.

"The seatbelt sign will be off soon, ma'am. I assure you nothing will go wrong." She said pleasantly; obviously she had experience dealing with nervous fliers. "Sir, put the armrest down."

Elena took a deep breath and started to move the armrest down. "No." Damon said stubbornly.

The airhostess glared at Damon and opened her mouth to retort angrily, only before she could speak, the loud dinging of the seatbelt sign going off interrupted her. Damon grinned smugly and settled back in his seat, his arm still loosely draped around her, rubbing gently circles on the side of her neck. He was very pointedly ignoring the airhostess. She sighed in exasperation before storming off to tend to the other passengers aboard. Elena turned slightly to face him looking entirely thankful.

"You're welcome." He said smugly, winking at her.

She sighed and leant back against the seat. Now all she had to do was get through the next hour or so. Damon's arms wound around her and pulled her against his chest. She sighed in contentment, once again, all tension seeping out of her. She couldn't forget she was once again in a flying chunk of metal which she knew from experience could plummet straight to the ground. She closed her eyes tightly and breathed in the scent of Damon. The fact that he could relax her was strangely comforting, and unnerving – she barely knew the guy.

They sat there for a long time. He managed to keep her calm unless the plane started to descend suddenly. She immediately tensed in his arms and pushed her face deeper into his chest. He tightened his grip on her and held her until they hit the ground.

* * *

She felt awkward after the plane ride. Damon was still practically a stranger, yet he knew so much about her than many of her closest friends didn't know. Barely anyone knew how terrified she was of planes. None of her friends, bar one, knew of her Vagrant legacy. Many of her friends owned bikes, but it's like owning a kitten and saying you're part of a zoo. None of them knew anything about her parents – they had rarely met Miranda, Elena had preferred spending her time around L.A or in one of her friend's huge houses than in her home off the beaten track. They didn't know any of the things that essentially made her who she was, yet she was letting Damon bit by bit and now, it was awkward.

They walked in a silence, both comfortable and uncomfortable depending on who you asked about it. To her it was uncomfortable; to him and the others observing them it was as comfortable and natural as anything. He wasn't pushing her to talk about anything, he was there, just a few steps behind her letting her wind her way through the familiar airport.

* * *

"So where to, ms. Los Angeles?" Damon said playfully as they emerged from the crowed outside LAX and made their way to the cab line. Surprisingly, it was quiet, with only a few people ahead of them. She grinned at him; glad he had broken the silence.

"Pasadena" she said, bouncing excitedly as he grabbed her bag and threw it in the trunk of the next available cab. She switched her mobile back on to even more missed calls and texts. She made a mental note to call her friends, even if there was a voice at the back of her head telling her how bad an idea this was.

Damon nodded and the both slotted into the back seat. "Where to?" the cabbie said routinely, with about as much enthusiasm as a 9-5 worker on a Monday morning.

"Pasadena." Elena said quietly. "4186 Ramston Boulevard." She noticed Damon look at her, his eyes hesitantly worried. She knew what he was thinking; her home at been burnt to the ground – why would she want to go back?

"Ramston?" the cabbie asked incredulously. "Isn't that where that fire was a couple days ago?"

She tensed immediately. She hadn't expected any major news to be following the story. Fires happened all the time, didn't they? Elena nodded quickly. "I've been out of town, I wouldn't know." Her voice cracked awkwardly on the last word. "Was it bad?"

The cab driver nodded gravely. "The house it started in is gone, only the garage is still standing. The houses around it, just have fire damage. They can't even sue for compensation, apparently after the mother died the daughter disappeared. There's a missing person's report filed but no picture's been released yet so we can't be much help."

Elena sat in stunned silence, her mouth hanging slightly open. There was a missing person's report? She couldn't think of anything else to say. She knew she must look ridiculous; sitting there, her mouth hanging open, not saying a word.

"Do they have any idea what started it?" Damon jumped in quickly. She shot a gratefully look at him.

The cabbie was silent for a moment. When he did speak his voice was much more subdued than before.

"They say it was the Vengefuls."

* * *

The second the cab drove away, leaving them at the end of the street Elena had mentioned, she exploded violently, pacing up and down in front of him.

"-Some random cab driver, Damon!" she fretted insistently. "If word on the street says it was the Vengefuls then they clearly don't care about being subtle!"

"Elena." He said firmly, slightly vexed when she ignored him completely and continued her freaking out. "Hey!" he said louder, moving towards her so she might actually listen. "What exactly are you worried about here?"

That stopped her. She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him slowly. "They burned down my home and now apparently every damn cabbie in LA knows it was the Vengefuls."

He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest. "And? _We_ knew it was the Vengefuls, why does one cabbie knowing make a difference?"

She glared at him and placed her hands on her hips. He couldn't help but noticed how sexy she looked in her clothes. Seriously, who wore knee high leather boots and a leather jacket in LA? And those jeans, they were just perfectly tight. He dragged his eyes away from her form and looking at her face again.

"The Vengefuls clearly don't care about leaving a trace Damon." She said stubbornly, her eyes flashing with irritation.

"Again I repeat, why do you care?" he snapped. He had never been patient and now, with her worrying, she was putting him on edge. He didn't _like _snapping at her but honestly he didn't get why she was so freaked out about it.

"Because if they can burn down my home and kill my mum without leaving any evidence, they could do so much more!" she finally yelled out. "I don't even know why I came here! I don't _want _to see my house!"

"C'mere." He said softly. Elena stared at him sadly. He stared straight back at her, amazed by her strength, she hadn't once cried. She hadn't let herself feel all the pain he knew was building up inside of her. He moved towards her and grasped her shoulder firmly. "Nothing is gonna happen to you. Nothing will happen to your friends."

He felt her relax under his arms. She made to pull away, and as he reluctantly released her, she fished in her giant bag for her mobile.

Before she could even press a button, it erupted into life, dancing in the palm of her hand to the annoying pre-programmed ringtone all mobiles came with now.

She took a deep breath and answered the call with shaking hands.

"Don't be mad at me." She said, in a warning tone.

"_ELENA!"_ a voice bellowed from the speaker. The person on the other end was talking so loudly even he could hear them. _"Oh, I'm mad at you alright."_

"Sam…" she started soothingly, giving up after a few seconds when an incoherent stream of words tumbled out of the speaker. She sat down heavily on a wall behind her and listened, looking forlorn, to her friend yelling at her. He smirked slightly and sat down behind her. She glared at him, unable to stop a small smile slipping through as she smacked his chest gently.

"Are you done?" she sighed into the phone when her friend took a break for air. "No?" she said, clearly irritated. "Sam, get a grip. I'll explain, _eventually." _He chuckled at her conversation. This guy, Sam, had no hope in hell of getting a straight answer out of her.

"I'm on Ramston." She said emotionlessly, her face a complete blank mask. Even her eyes were hiding most of the emotion; there was only a glimmer of pain hidden within their depths. "Because."

Damon smiled at her absent-mindedly. He had never met anyone who could deflect as well as he could.

"Fine." She snapped. "See you in ten minutes." She snapped her phone back down and stared at it angrily, before she threw it forcefully into her bag.

"What did that phone ever do to you?" he said grinning at her little show.

"That phone allows communication to people who piss me off." She said matter of factually, a small smile slipping through her mask.

"There's a thing called a decline button." He said knowingly, just because it would annoy her.

"I _know_." She retorted, rolling her eyes extravagantly. "They thought I was dead though."

"Perfectly logically thing to think." He said dryly as he leant his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands under his chin.

"Oh shut up." She said smiling widely. He mentally cheered; the emotionless mask her face and eyes had become while she was talking to Sam didn't do it for him; the heart warming smile and the dancing eyes did.

"So, what now?" he said, after a while of silence.

"Sam is picking us up." She said simply. "Prepare for awkward questions." She said casually standing up as a faded red truck rounded the corner.

"That's all I get?" he said skeptically. "No better warnings?"

She shook her head, a playful smirk gracing her lips. "He knows nothing about the Vagrants, I doubt he knows about the Vengefuls, even if he has heard the rumor."

He nodded seriously, understanding her meaning. For as long as Sam was around he wasn't a motorcycle club member, he was just Damon and he was Elena's friend. That was all.

Elena held out her hand demandingly for him to take. He slid his hand into hers willingly and let her haul him off the wall. He threaded his fingers more securely through hers as the truck screeched to a halt in front of them. A tall, dark haired man jumped out and charged towards Elena, wrapping her in a bone-crushing hug. He felt an unexplained twinge of jealously at the way she threw her arms around his neck and let his spin her around.

When he finally put Elena down, she stepped back to stand beside him, her eyes wide with happiness. She struggled not to let out a shocked gasp as her hand found it's way back into his. Sam raised an eyebrow and stared him up and down, sizing him up.

"Damon Salvatore." He said, holding out his free hand for Sam to shake. Sam accepted his hand and grasped it firmly.

"Sam Risk." Sam glanced at Elena, then back at him, and then at their hands joined together. He backed away and sat in the driver's seat, motioning for them to get in.

Elena leant softly against the wall she had previously been sitting on. It only came up to her knees and the rest of her body was supported against a dark wood fence. He stepped forward unconsciously and pressed a hand either side of her head, with one of her hands still clasped in his, caging her to the wood.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly, glancing between his eyes and his lips.

he could feel it. The electricity building between them. The way her eyes darkened and her breath hitched. He could practically feel her heart beating out out chest. Judging by the way her eyes couldn't stay trained on his; they trailed over his face as if she was trying to memorise every part of it. The truck horn beeped, and just like that the electric atmosphere, the tangent want in the air was gone in the time it took to press a button on a steering wheel.

He looked away sharply before gazing intently into her eyes. "I don't even know."

She dropped his hand suddenly and stepped away, hurrying to sit in the front seat. He sighed and slipped into the awkward tension of the truck.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Elena asked casually after ten minutes or so. She was curled up in the passenger seat with her chin tucked into her knees.

"Jake's." Sam grunted, his eyes on the road. Damon noted how tense he seemed. His knuckles were white around the steering wheel and the posture of his back seemed way too tense for driving along a road he'd probably driven along hundreds of times.

Sam met his eyes in the rear view mirror. He started at how his hazel eyes glared at him. There was hardness in them and that shocked even him.

They pulled up outside an apartment complex.

"Elena, Jake's dying to talk to you. He doesn't know you're here. How about you head up first and we'll meet you up there?" Sam said pleasantly, his fingers still white around the steering wheel.

Elena frowned and slid out of the car, glancing at Damon worriedly before disappearing out of sight. Damon stepped out of the back seat and leant casually against the truck. He barely noticed Sam circling the vehicle until his strong arm slammed him against the hard metal.

'"The _fuck_, dude?" he growled menacingly, shoving Sam off of him. He smirked in triumph as shock covered Sam's experience.

"Who the fuck are you?" Sam yelled, his eyes narrowed slits. He advanced closer, pinning Damon back up against the door with his elbow pressed against his throat.

Damon shoved Sam backwards before trapping him with his strong grip against a wall. "Damon Salvatore. A handshake would have sufficed." He growled lowly. He had learnt a long time ago shouting solved no problems. It just gathered more attention.

"How do you know, Elena?" he croaked out weakly. Damon narrowed his eyes and released the pressure on Sam's throat.

"I'll let her explain that." He paused, a guilt conscience creeping up on him. The guy was just looking out for his friend. He released his grip completely and backed away a safe distance.

Sam scoffed loudly and advanced on him again. Clearly the guy just couldn't take a hint. He threw a hard punch for Damon's jaw, but he caught it swiftly in his hand and blocked it effortlessly. However, he didn't count on Sam's other hand flying upwards and cracking him in the face.

"Oh, fucking _hell_." Damon moaned, holding his temple. His own efforts to save himself form damage had given Sam a boost and a bunch of extra strength that had, unfortunately, been redirected towards his temple.

"Sam, Jake's so pissed- what the hell happened?" Elena gasped as she hurried to Damon's side and gingerly touched the bruise already forming around his temple.

"That bastard punched me." Damon managed to get out through gritted teeth.

Sam shrugged indifferently and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Don't look at me."

"What the hell, Sam?" Elena snapped before unexpectedly grabbing Damon's hand and pulling him into the apartment complex. She shook her head in disgust as she led Damon to Jake's apartment. He followed behind her silently, his fingers still intertwined with hers.

"Elena?" Jake said as he pulled the door open. "What's up- uh, hi." H said awkwardly, glancing at his best friend and the guy whose hand she was holding. "You want some ice, man? That looks nasty." He said easily, shutting the door behind them and making his way to the kitchen to grab an ice pack form his freezer.

"That'd be great." He said gratefully as he settled himself on the couch. "I think his watch caught me." He winced as his fingers ran over a sensitive spot. He pulled his hand away, sighing at the sticky, red substance covering his head, and now his hand.

"Here" Jake said pleasantly. "I'm Jake, by the way."

"Damon." He grunted out. At least one of Elena's friends wasn't out to slice his head open. Elena appeared by his side a moment later holding a damp towel. "Ouch." He hissed as she pressed the cloth against his cut temple.

"Sorry." She murmured. He fought to control the goose bumps that threatened to erupt over his neck at how close she was to him. He could feel her breath on his neck. "Hold the ice on it now." She said softly after a while.

"Sam punched you, right?" Jake said sadly, gazing knowingly at Damon.

He nodded irritated. "Yep. No warning. Shoved me up against his truck and clearly didn't get the message when I pushed him away. He threw a punch, I deflected but his other hand had more power than it should have."

Jake nodded in agreement. "He has no idea what's going on. He refuses to believe it was the Vengefuls – you know he doesn't believe that stuff exists, Elena."

Damon raised his eyebrows and glanced at Elena. He had no idea what to say to who or how much to say to anyone. She giggled and went to wrap his arms around Jake's neck. "Jake's cool." She said, laughing. She looked so effortlessly happy here; so much more relaxed and at ease than he'd ever seen. "He knows about it all."

"How'd you know about it all?" Damon asked curiously, taking the icepack away from his head. The stinging had reduced considerably.

"Dad was in the Rebels when he was a kid. He goes on about it all the time." Elena rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "It drives me _insane._"

"Why'd he give it up?" he asked unabashedly. He had always known bikers who had never given up; never abandoned their chapter. When he heard of someone completely stopping riding, there was always an ulterior motive behind it.

"Leg injuries in a crash." said Jake, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Elena shuddered. She couldn't imagine being trapped inside 24/7; not being able to ride her bike or drive a car.

Damon nodded, looking at the floor. "What are they saying about the fire?"

Jake cracked his knuckles and gazed at Elena sadly. "Accident. I think they put it down to an electrical fault after they discovered the biker's involvement. There are no leads, no nothing. With them, the second a M.C is involved in any crime, they pull the plug."

"It's like they've given up before they even try." Elena murmured.

"You know I'll do everything I can to figure out who's after you." Damon told her quietly. "And when I do, they're gonna die. Whether it's Giuseppe or Grayson."

He looked her straight in the eye and opened his mouth slightly, before closing it again, looking at the floor. He sighed and met her gaze. There was seriousness reflected in hers that he knew mirrored his own.

"Or whether I have to pull the trigger myself."

* * *

_Oh my god. How long has it been since I've uploaded? Waaaay too long._

_Okay, there are no excuses, but I've been going through stuff and it sucks. I just cam't find much motivation to write. Even now, I'm barley getting back into it, this chapter has been an unsaved document since my last update. It was an utter nightmare to write. I hope it's okay, and normally, this is where I'd say update soon but realistically I'm not sure what's gonna happen. I'll get another update up as soon as I can - I'm not uploading a chapter I hate if I know i can do better. _

_Reviews would mean the world. Hint hint..._

_**ALSO**, has anyone read a TVD fanfic with Damon and Elena in the style of the Notebook? Like, same sorta plot line and everything? It's one of my favourite fics and I FORGOT TO ADD IT TO MY FAVOURITES. Anyone who can help me out can literally be my best friend. Forever._

_-E _


	10. Denial

The fading sunlight filtered through the wooden blinds, creating horizontally slanting shadows across the oak flooring. Damon sat, staring in a resigned manner at the display of his phone and tried to ignore the dull throbbing in his temple. Some time ago, the calls had begun flooding in. He had screened each and every one of them, and now, as his ringtone began again, he screened another.

He would have to face Grayson eventually, but until Giuseppe called, his phone was the least of his worries.

After his announcement that he could be the one to pull the trigger on whoever was trying to hurt her, Elena had become significantly more subdued and retreated to another room with Jake. Whether it was knowing any one of them would pull a trigger on another's life, or whether it was the thought of anyone killing somebody to protect her, she didn't seem able to accept it.

Damon had let her go. However long she had lived hearing stories of this life, she hadn't lived in the harsh reality of the world she was so deeply connected to. She wasn't as prepared for the outcome of a life being taken.

Another call flashed onto his cell.

He declined it.

Damon leant back against the sofa, and scrutinized the way the slanting shadows were moving with the wind coming through the open window. It was the perfect distraction. The simplicity and enthralling nature of shadows and sunlight distracted his wandering mind for the conclusion he would inevitably come to.

He shook the thought from his mind. Until it came to him, most likely in the middle of the night, he had no reason to go to that part of his mind.

His phone buzzed again. He noted briefly how much he hated that most phones' 'silent' setting was defaulted to vibrate. If he wanted his phone to vibrate like a goddamned earthquake every time he got a text or call he'd set it to that setting.

He debated over finally answering. He had received no word from his father other than a text message saying 'Idiot.' yet Grayson hadn't stopped calling. Surely if he was that desperate to talk to Elena, or yell at him for screening his calls, he could call his daughter?

Damon pressed the answer button.

"Hey Gray." he said in a flat voice.

"Damon." Grayson sounded relieved. There was none of the overbearing father he had briefly encountered.

Damon immediately snapped into life. "What's wrong?"

"Where's Elena?" Grayson asked urgently.

"Why?"

"Damon, where is she?" he snapped, leaving no room for smart-ass comments or deflections.

"Next door." He said, with a shrug, even though Grayson couldn't see his indifference.

"You mean you're not with her?" He said accusingly, his voice steely.

Damon stood up abruptly and made his way to the door. It hadn't occurred to him that Grayson was trying to call him because he _couldn't_ contact Elena.

He walked briskly through the halls of the unfamiliar house until he reached the room he had last seen her enter. "Where's Elena?" he asked Jake, with forced nonchalance.

Jake looked up confused. "She went to talk to you, like twenty minutes ago."

Damon froze. On the other end of the line, Grayson went silent.

"Damon." Grayson said, his voice rough. "Find her."

/

"For god's sake, Jake!" Damon yelled exasperated. "You know her better that I do!"

Jake held up his hands in defense. "I've told you! She disappears all the time. She'll be fine! She ran off to _Phoenix_ and no one heard from her."

"I don't think you get it." Damon hissed harshly. "You do not get what's going on here."

"Then why don't you stop acting like the mysterious guy and explain." He shouted. "I, for some fucked up reason, decided to trust you when Sam didn't. So stop acting like I'm some idiot who can't understand!"

"You _can't_ understand." He snapped, his eyes blazing. "This is deeper than you could ever imagine. Do you think you could use your head and link something together for me?" he asked patronizingly. "Miranda is dead, killed because of unknown reasons."

"Do you think I don't know-?"

Damon cut off his words with a sharp look. "It was pure coincidence Elena wasn't in there when the house went up. There was someone after Miranda before, and it should have ended when she died but now someone is going after Elena too."

"You said so yourself, you barely know her. Her disappearing for a couple hours is normal. Plus, whoever's after her must think she's in Phoenix."

"What part of your thick skull fails to register how much danger she could be in right now?"

"The part that is Elena's best friend and knows she has a habit of disappearing."

"If she's hurt, I swear to god I will rip you apart for making me stand here arguing with you."

"She won't be hurt." He insisted smugly. "If you go out looking for her, she'll get back before you."

Damon narrowed his eyes at the man standing across the room from him. His arguments, although reasonable, were so incredibly naïve he could have laughed. _'Oh, she isn't in danger because they think she's in Phoenix.' _He growled and stalked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

He surveyed his surroundings.

He had no idea where to go next. He sighed, and set off in the direction of what looked liked civilization.

* * *

"Jake, you don't get it." Elena murmured softly to her best friend.

"Then explain it to me." He retorted emotionlessly.

"I can't, Jake, it's so much deeper than you can imagine." That was true at least. She was in way too deep, and the last thing she wanted for anyone to be going after the people she loved.

Jake sighed in defeat and leant back against the kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna go talk to Damon." She announced after a long period of silence.

"Because you can talk to him and not to me." He spat bitterly. His eyes were hard and cast in the strange shadows the glazed windows cast.

Elena shook her head and pushed herself up of the chair she was sitting in and walked out of the kitchen.

She paused before entering the room she kept hearing a phone go off in. She pull of the front door was all too tempting. She could slip off, just for a half hour or so. She hadn't been properly alone by choice since the ride around L.A right when she got her bike.

Her hands twitched. She missed her bike, it felt like she hadn't ridden in months, and considering she'd been spending her days in a motorcycle club, and falling asleep at night beside the President's son.

She smiled involuntarily at the thought of Damon as she made her way silently out of Jake's apartment block. Some how, they had become close over the past few days, and as fast as everything was happening including them and their father's, all she wanted were a few easy days, where everything was predictable and boring.

The ten minute walk into town was cut down considerably by cutting through old shortcuts with the ease only some one who lived here had. She found herself standing outside the familiar pub she used to spend her typical weekend nights in. Elena grinned and pushed open the door and weaving her way through the crowds to sit comfortably at the bar.

"Hey Benny." She said cheerily, waving at the bartender.

Ben's mouth dropped open.

"Elena." He breathed out. He stood shocked for a moment, but the moment he recovered she was being pulled into a bone-breaking hug. "God, Elena, I'm so sorry."

A strange sensation washed over her.

Her mother. She closed her eyes, crushing guilt pounding down on her. She hadn't even thought about her in the past days and now, she wasn't feeling sad. She was just numb.

"Elena?" Ben asked quietly, nudging her shoulder gently. "You okay?"

She snapped herself out of her reverie and made sheepish eye contact with Ben. She nodded and forced a smile on her face. "Yeah."

Ben opened his mouth to say more but before he could get a word out, loud hollering from further down the bar interrupted him. He scowled nastily as he headed towards them, muttering under his breath.

"Hey gorgeous." A sleazy looking drunk said boldly from behind. "Where's your boyfriend at?"

"Bathroom." She said simply. She had had way too much experience with dealing with these types of guys.

"Well that wasn't smart was it?" The drunk suddenly didn't seem so drunk anymore. His dark eyes were gleaming wickedly as he moved closer to her.

"Now why would your boyfriend leave you out here all by yourself?" Another snide voice asked her from the other side. She tensed, looking desperately at Ben who was still dealing with the guys at the other end of the bar.

"I think you're alone." The first voice said. The speaker was a dark haired man, with gleaming black eyes. "We saw you walk in. Didn't seem like you were with anyone."

"Although, the bartender might want a piece of you." The second man noted. "Especially after you were flirting with him like that."

Elena shifted uncomfortably in her seat and stared at the wood of the bar. She was safe, she was safe, she kept repeating in her mind. The bar was crowded tonight. They wouldn't try something too drastic.

"Come on, baby, don't play so hard to get." One of the men cooed patronizingly, as he traced the line of her spine. She flinched, repulsed by the desperate lowlifes behind her.

"I suggest you back off." Ben said coldly, from right in front of her. She gasped in relief.

The men's eyes narrowed as the sized up Ben. Apparently, Ben's stereotypical jock build and intimidating expression overruled a pointless bar fight. They backed away, and went about harassing a group of girls on the other side of the bar.

"Sorry." Ben said regretfully. "Those other guys were ordering non-stop. I didn't see these ones till right now."

Elena shook her head, faking an easy smile. "It's fine. I think I'm gonna head back though. I'll call you soon, okay?"

Ben looked uneasy, but he didn't stop her from hastily paying him and rushing out the crowded room into the crisp night air.

She breathed in deeply and began walking back to Jake's. She had stayed out longer than planned and all she hoped was that neither man had noticed her absence. She was shocked at how dark the night had become.

"Where's your boyfriend now, baby?" an all too familiar voice said triumphantly from behind her.

She froze dead in her tracks, an unwelcome fear uncurling in her stomach.

"Girls like you shouldn't be walking home in the dark." The other of the two men from the bar spoke next, breathing disgustingly close to her face. She cringed away from his breath, gasping loudly when he grabbed her and pushed her against the rough brick wall.

"And why's that?" the other man said, laughing maliciously. "Why do you think that is, sweetheart?"

Elena choked back a sob; the harsh reality of what was happening sinking in slowly.

"Nothing?" the first man said sadly, his alcohol soaked breath was making her gag. "I'll tell you then."

He moved closer to her, his callous hand moving roughly against her skin as her cheek grazed lightly against the wall.

"Because things go bump in the night."

* * *

Damon cursed pointlessly as he roamed the dark streets of an unknown city. Now, he was lost and he still hadn't found Elena. He scowled as he imagined Jake smiling smugly with a proud "I told you so." if he finally found his way back there and Elena was sitting there, safe.

How did the night get so dark? The night had crept up on him so quickly he had barely registered it, and now in the darkness broken only by the soft orange streetlamps he had lost all sense of time and direction.

Somewhere ahead of him he heard two male voices laughing spitefully. He hoped they weren't going to fight, because then he'd have to break them up before getting directions to somewhere he could call a cab.

He followed his ears, and walked cautiously towards the voices. Somewhere among the malicious tones and cruel laughter he heard a gasp of shock and pain, and his heart dropped.

He walked faster. That was no man's voice. That wasn't two guys going after another guy – that, he could handle. That was two men, going after what sounded like a girl.

He ground his teeth together and broke into a steady jog as the woman choked back a sob. He blocked out the words the men were saying and turned another corner until he came across a scene that would make any other man's stomach churn.

He knew that girl.

He sprinted towards the two men, and used the force from him running to throw one of them against a brick wall. He growled, shoving him against it and punching him with everything he had. And again. And again.

The unspent rage he had from resisting Sam's fight earlier came back and added fuel to the fire. He dropped the guy to the floor, leaving him knocked unconscious. Adrenaline was coursing uncontrollably through his veins.

"Look baby, someone came to join our show." The other man whispered into Elena's ear.

Damon's stomach churned and his heart turned to stone. The man was holding Elena's cheek against the rough brick wall and whispering crudely in her ear. She choked back another sob, unable to see more than the wall in front of her.

She thought he was there to hurt her too, he realized with a shock. Damon flew at the man pinning her and held him up by the throat against the wall.

The second the man's hands weren't on Elena anymore, she dropped to the ground and curled herself in a ball, burying her face in her knees.

The man's face was slowly turning blue, his eyes bulging almost comically out of their sockets. He forcefully rammed the man's head against the wall, and released him to lie beside his buddy.

He crouched down beside Elena, keeping his distance from her. He would not hurt her, ever, he promised himself.

"Elena." Damon whispered softly. "It's okay." Elena didn't move. There was no reaction in her body at all. "Elena?" he asked, tentatively reaching out to touch her shoulder.

Her head snapped up immediately, locking her terrified wide eyes onto his. "Damon." was all she managed to choke out before tears began spilling down her cheeks and she buried her face in her knees.

Damon didn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to him while he crouched against the wall.

"It's okay. You're okay." He murmured continuously into her hair, stroking it as he did so. "I promise. You're okay."

Elena clutched to his jacket like it was a lifeline. He surveyed her body quickly. All her clothes were still in place – they hadn't touched her. They hadn't touched her, he repeated mentally to himself in his own personal mantra.

In the distance he heard voice approaching. Relief kept coming to him in short bursts. First when he found her, then when she was safe and unharmed, then when he heard people approaching – they would call someone for the men he'd hurt and now, when a yellow cab screeched to a halt in front of him and two drunken girls stumbled out and made their made hysterically to the house behind him.

He hailed the cab quickly and climbed inside, still holding Elena against his chest.

The cabbie raised his eyebrows in shock as Damon nodded to him in greeting.

"Where to?" the old driver asked, concern seeping into his rough tone.

Damon leant his head back against the headrest and began stroking Elena's hair again. He could tell she wasn't asleep. Her breathing was fast and irregular, and her heartbeat was too frantic for her to be peaceful right now.

"Just take us to the nearest hotel." He answered wearily.

* * *

Damon trudged wearily through the halls of the hotel he had been taken to and gently nudged the door open – a hard task when carrying someone in your arms. He glanced around the room automatically, taking in the outdated décor but other wise comfortable looking room. He placed Elena on the bed softly and crouched down and cupped her face in his hands.

"Please say something." He begged her futilely. Anything was better than this never-ending silence.

"Like what?" Elena spat out, finally showing some emotion.

"Something like that did the trick fine." He smiled ruefully and tucked her hair behind her ear. She flinched away from him slightly. His fingers froze next to her ear when he saw the flash of fear go through her eyes.

"Go away." She said quietly.

He scowled. "No."

"Go away!" she repeated louder, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Please just leave me alone." She pleaded, her voice shaking dangerously.

"Elena. I'm not going anywhere." He said stubbornly, pushing himself up from his crouch in front of her and sitting slowly next to her rigid body on the bed.

"Why not?" she asked, her voice painfully steady.

"You have serious issues with talking to people." he stated dryly.

"Then stop trying to talk to me. I don't want to talk to anyone."

"Well," he smirked, "I'm not one to be discouraged."

"Damon." She said, her voice slightly muffled form the way her face was buried in her knees. "I don't want to talk. I don't need to talk."

"You do." He insisted. "God, Elena you do. You need to talk about what happened tonight and what happened with your mom. What good do you think will come of you bottling it all up inside?"

"More good that will come from opening up to someone."

"Elena." Damon almost yelled exasperated. "Do you even understand what could have happened tonight?"

"Yes Damon! Believe it or not, I'm extremely aware of what could have happened!"

"See!" he snapped. "You can't handle it by yourself!"

"There's nothing to handle! You stopped them!"

The anger seemed to ebb away all at once. "They could have raped you, Elena." He forced out through gritted teeth. The words tasted sour in his mouth.

Now, all her anger seemed to ebb away too. Elena slumped against him in defeat, burying her face firmly in his chest. He sighed in relief and his held her tightly as he moved backwards to lean against the headrest.

He didn't know what else to do other than to sit there, holding her, until she was ready to talk.

Eventually, her breathing even slightly, and although she was still awake she was finally content in his arms.

He felt something damp against his shoulder and almost laughed at the shock. The Elena he had grown to know had never showed any sign of letting what happened to her get her so emotionally.

Damon cupped her face in his hands and pushed her away from his chest so he could inspect her face. He wiped away the stray tears with the pads of his thumbs and sat both of them up slowly and pulled her to her feet.

"You should take a shower." He said casually, trying to act like he wasn't affected so strongly by the small brunette in front of him. She raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Y'know," he continued as normally as possible, "So you can get changed and sleep."

"Nothing to change in to." She said quietly, fidgeting with her nails.

"So sleep in my shirt." He replied easily. For a second he debated if she could deal with it before he simply decided to go for it and ripped of his light grey V-neck t-shirt and threw it at her. "There. Problem solved." He winked cockily at her and leant back against the bed, his hands clasped casually behind his head.

To his delight, Elena burst out laughing and picked up the t-shirt from where it had landed on the floor and chucked her leather jacket on a chair across the room. She flashed a quick, genuine smile at him before disappearing into the door that led to the bathroom.

The second the door had swung shut and the shower turned out, Damon rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, letting out a loud frustrated moan into the fabric.

Elena Gilbert would be the absolute death of him.

* * *

Elena swung the door shut quickly and reached over to turn the shower on. She sighed loudly and leant back against the door. Her head was a mess right now. She had no idea how she should be feelings but she was fairly certain that after what had almost happened tonight she shouldn't be standing in a bathroom fantasizing about Damon Salvatore. She groaned as the inevitable picture of him shirtless sprang into her mind. How was it possible for one man to be so sinfully good looking? Surely it wasn't fair to the rest of the male population?

She hurriedly stripped her clothes and stepped under the warm jets of water. The muscles she didn't even realize were tense instantly began to relax as she closed her eyes and tipped her head back to allow the water to wash over her face.

The memories of the night began trickling into her relaxed state of mind and immediately, the small shower cubicle became too small. She could still feel their hands on her, and their horrid, pungent breath on her face.

She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, refusing to let tonight go deeper than it had to. She was fine. They had been stopped. Damon had stopped them.

Her mind, of course, pictured him shirtless again. She sighed and relaxed once again under the stream of water. Damon Salvatore: the perfect distraction. She massages the free shampoo into her hair and washed the rest of her body with the sweet smelling soap, that smelled like vanilla and jasmine.

She reluctantly switched the shower off and stepped out of the confining cubicle. She spotted a short towel hanging on the towel rack and decided, if Damon was her distraction from reality, she might as well have some fun with it.

With the towel wrapped securely around her, Elena unlocked the door and made her way into the main room. She glanced at Damon's back, with definitely lived up to her expectations after seeing his chest. His hard muscles rippled as he rolled over and opened her eyes to look at her.

Damon groaned slightly and rolled onto his back to face the ceiling.

"You'll be the death of me. I swear you will." Damon said teasingly as he stared at the ceiling, occasionally meeting her eyes and trailing down her mostly bare body.

"I'm just looking for my cell." she replied innocently, wandering over to the chair to grab her mobile from where it had been sitting all night in her pocket. She met Damon's eyes, thoroughly amused by the desire displayed in them, and winked sweetly before retreating to the bathroom to slip on his shirt.

Standing in the bathroom, towel drying her hair with painful slowness, she let her mind wander back to the man currently lying, half naked, in the bed she was sleeping in tonight. She smirked and slipped her underwear back on, with Damon's grey t-shirt on top.

She moved silently from the bathroom to the bed, and slipped in quietly and rolling over to face Damon, starting slightly when she came face to face with his piercing eyes.

"You're mean." He pouted sadly. "You like to tease don't you?"

She grinned at him, letting herself lose the dark memories from the past week in his eyes. "It's always fun."

"It's not just fun for you though." He pointed out reasonably. "I'm not stupid. I've known you long enough to tell you three things that you gotta deal with, Elena." His tone was kind, with just a hint of the arrogant, cocky Damon underneath but no matter how kind he was she didn't want to be told how to deal with things.

She glared at him and didn't say a word.

He glared straight back. "You refuse to talk to anyone. Why can't you just talk to someone?" he shot out straight away. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't need to talk to someone!" she insisted darkly. "What makes you think I do? I can deal fine, by _myself_." Damon acted like she hadn't replied.

"That was number one. Number two: you act like nothing has happened to you, Elena." Damon said, his tone was pleading now. All he wanted for her was for her to be okay. "And things _have_ happened to you, bad things and if you don't talk they're just gonna build up and build up until you let it get on top of you!"

"I'm dealing." She snapped at him through gritted teeth.

"No." he said forcefully to her. "You're not. _At all_."

"Are you done?" she said, glaring at him. "I'm tired."

"Again, no. Number three: you deflect _everything_. You use whatever you can as a distraction and honestly Elena, if you don't start growing up and accepting what's happened to you I don't want to stick around and watch it take you over."

Damon abruptly reached over her and snapped the light out, plunging them into complete darkness.

Elena didn't reply for a long time, and by Damon's breathing he was still awake. Her mind was raging an internal battle with itself. She knew he was right. She deflected, she distracted and she denied everything. She glared at the faint outline of him through the darkness. He clearly wasn't shy about speaking up when the occasion called for it.

She wanted to hate him.

He'd walked into her life literally days ago and suddenly it seemed like he knew her better than anything. He had made her question everything about herself. All her deep-rooted beliefs about how she should handle everything life threw at her, even her old life and what it had been and what it had meant.

The sighed in defeat and rolled over to face him and leant her head comfortably against the very edge of his chest. She felt his sigh too. Slowly, the arm he had been resting his head on came down to rest lightly on her back and ever so gently pull her closer to him.

Slowly, as she drifted into sleep Elena came to a conclusion that scared her as much as it made her smile.

Damon Salvatore was either the best thing for her–

Or the worst.


	11. Impulse

_I'm back! This is really short, but I just had to cut it right where I did, and that's the reason this note is at the beginning and not the end. Enjoy. ;)_

* * *

"Elena." Damon murmured softly. "Jake just called you, we need to go back."

She groaned and buried her face in a soft pillow. "No." she protested adamantly.

Damon shook his head and flicked her ear gently. "Get the hell up!" he ordered, tugging on a soft grey jumper she hadn't noticed he had before and his jacket. "Now!" He yanked the duvet off of her.

"Damon!" she roared, sitting bolt upright.

Damon didn't think he'd ever seen someone look so good. He chucked her jeans, jumper and jacket at her. It had never been so painful to give a girl clothes to wear, he'd _much_ prefer her without them. "Clothes. Then we're leaving."

Elena dragged her jeans up her legs and scrambled out of bed, throwing her other clothes over her arm and slipping on her shoes.

"Nice shirt." He commented ruefully. She was deliberately torturing him, he decided.

"I think I'll keep it." She pointed out, heading for the door. "I like it."

Damon opened the door, motioning for her to walk out. "Whatever makes you happy, 'Lena." He said dryly.

* * *

The second Elena rang Jake's doorbell, the door was thrown open and she was being squeezed to death by her lifelong friend. Damon edged around them gingerly. Elena noticed he was throwing some pretty smug looks and Jake.

"I told you so." Damon said smugly, sitting himself down at the kitchen table.

Jake glared at him, not saying a word.

"Smug bastard." She muttered under her breath, prodding Damon in the arm.

He grinned at her and clasped his hands behind his head and lolling backwards.

"You know, I really need to call Grayson." He said resignedly staring at his phone as it buzzed in his palm.

"So call the guy." Jake spat out vehemently, shooting daggers at Damon. She'd have to get the story out of one of them later. Her bets were on Damon, it seemed he was smug about something and Jake wasn't the kind to flaunt his losses.

Elena chuckled and grabbed Damon's phone out his hand. "Behave. I'll do it."

She disappeared out of the room, leaving one loose cannon and some pretty explosive fuel in the same room.

She sat down heavily on the soft sofa and called her father's number.

"Damon, we got new-" Grayson started breathlessly.

"New what?" she asked, despite herself.

"Elena!" Her dad cried awkwardly. He coughed, trying to cover his mishap. "Just new bikes, baby."

She rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to flip off her dad through the phone. The one thing that connected her and her dad was their love of the road and motorbikes – new bikes were one of the things they shared over the years. She would not be out of the loop on new bikes. Her dad was making one poor-ass excuse to cover something up.

"Sure Dad." She said skeptically.

"Are you okay, Lay?" he asked softly, successfully changing the subject. "Damon couldn't find you, then some other guy had no idea where you went and that was last night..."

Elena sighed. "I'm fine, Dad. Honest." She lied.

"That mean you gonna get your ass back home?" Grayson asked semi-playfully just as Damon walked into the room, unnoticed by the brunette on the phone.

She chuckled humorlessly. "So you can tell Damon something new on who's trying to kill me?" she accused flatly.

Damon grabbed the phone out of Elena's grasp. "Hey Gray, what's up?"

"Hey!" Elena hissed, making a move to snatch the phone back. "Damon!"

"What? Sorry, your daughter's attacking me." Damon said flatly, a small smirk playing around the edges of his lips. Damon pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed it to his chest. "You act like I'm not gonna tell you what he says!" he hissed.

Elena stopped grabbing for the phone and stared at him strangely. Her mouth was making an 'Oh' shape and she looked as if someone had just told her Santa wasn't real.

Damon rolled his eyes at her and placed the phone back against his ear, relaxing back into the sofa. "It's fine. I killed her." He said flatly.

Elena could hear Grayson's unamused voice even without loudspeaker.

"Relax Gray, I didn't kill her. I mean she's annoying and all, but I'm learning to deal-" Suddenly, Damon furrowed his brows and ran his hands agitatedly through his hair. "Where are you even getting the information Gray? Stuff like that doesn't just get leaked to people like us."

Damon frowned and rubbed his face tiredly with his hand. "If you want to keep people safe, keeping them in the dark isn't the way to do that." He snapped viciously.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," He threatened. "I'll tell her what is necessary, but don't ask me to keep her in the dark. Bye Gray."

He threw down the phone violently and messed up his hair restlessly.

Elena stared at him, inexplicably frustrated at only hearing half the conversation.

"Damon." She said quietly.

He sighed and met her eyes. "It's not even a big deal. It's been confirmed that the biker who set fire to your house is a new patch member of the Vengefuls, his bike's not in our older record. He's fresh meat willing to put his butt on the line to impress."

She closed her eyes. "What are they keeping me in the dark about?"

He buried his face in his hands. "I don't know. I have no idea, if he tells me, I either have to lie to you, or I lie to them. "

She wanted to think he was lying. She wanted any excuse to find a reason to put a barrier between herself and the only person who she had really begun to open up to in her life. Elena nodded and stood up. "I get it." She told him softly.

"I don't lie Elena. Be whatever you want to be and I'll treat you the same, just don't lie to me." He told her, a faint note of desperation in his voice.

"I won't." she promised, so quietly he very nearly didn't hear her.

"I don't understand where they're getting this information!" he moaned tapping his fingers against the arm of he sofa.

"Someone on the inside." She told him, unable to resist a slightly patronizing tone.

He flicked her shoulder gently. "I know, but I'm starting to think it's not just some corrupt cop."

Elena nodded, fiddling with the ends of her hair. "Well they will tell _you_." She said bitterly.

"Hey." He said gently, touching her chin for a moment to bring her gaze back to his. "They _haven't_ told me."

"But they will." She pointed out stubbornly. "What is Giuseppe going to keep from you? _Nothing_. What is Grayson going to keep from me? Besides from my whole background, my relationship with my Dad, and having a chance to grow up in the same way he and Miranda did, nah, not much at all." She spat out sarcastically.

"'Lena!" he exclaimed exasperatedly. "He's _protecting_ you!"

"I may be Grayson's daughter, and I may ride bikes and be part of the Vagrants, but I don't _know_ anything. It's a whole foreign world to me back home!"

He looked at her, and with one long look, he conveyed every emotions a smile could hold into a glimpse. He was one of those people whose smiles were few and far. The smirked, they laughed, and they gave small, shadowed glimpses but their true heart-melting, face-splitting smiles were reserved for those who deserved to see it.

"I want to _go_ home." She confessed to him honestly.

He smiled at her softly, making her stare awkwardly at his expression. He couldn't come out and tell her why her words made him so happy.

She wanted to go home. Her home was Phoenix, and maybe he was reading too much into it, but unless he was very much mistaken, her home was in the place she had spent every moment with him in. In the place she called home, every moment had been spent with him.

And that thought, for unexplainable reasons, made him smile

* * *

Elena stared out at the evening sky. Saying goodbye to Jake had been difficult, and being unable to contact Sam, leaving again was harder than last time.

Damon sat next to her in the can, keeping his distance as usual. Maybe he knew her in that aspect, or maybe he just knew himself. Somethings are best pondered alone, in silence, in the quiet company of one person who will leave you be.

The time flew by and merged together to a dull grey colour. There were no outstanding emotions, no fear of the sky, and no sadness at leaving. She was leaving and she was going home.

* * *

"You." Grayson hissed at Damon as he wandered into the clubhouse slightly behind Elena.

"Hey Gray." He said absently, clapping Giuseppe on the shoulder as he watched on amused.

Grayson spluttered speechless for a moment, before he glared at Elena, pointing accusingly at her. "You're in trouble, kid."

Elena smiled innocently and sat down on the soft sofa in Giuseppe's office. "Hi, Daddy."

"I like you, kid. You're just like Grayson without all that parental crap." Giuseppe grinned, sitting next to Elena.

"What am I? A next door neighbor?" Damon said grinning, sitting between Elena and his Dad.

Giuseppe shrugged. "I was thinking more of a family pet."

Elena giggled at Damon's indignant and butted her shoulder into him. Her laughter died on her lips as she noticed her Dad's face.

"I'm sorry, Dad." She muttered to him. "But I'm not a little kid. I managed twenty-two years already without you there constantly, a couple days alone won't make a difference." She shut her mouth quickly, her heart hurting as she watched the only parent she had left walk out the room.

She buried her face in her hands. "I cannot believe I just said that." She grumbled to no one in particular. She felt warm hands on her back pushing her upright and towards the door.

Damon smirked at her and winked. Elena's heart immediately lifted slightly, and as she walked out the door, heading towards her father to mend her hurtful words she walked with a light heart, which was more than she could have said a week ago.

"Hey kid." Grayson said sadly, rummaging through the mini-bar in his office to grab a beer, as Elena walked into the room.

"You know I didn't mean what I said." She said quietly, reluctantly meeting his eyes.

"It's true though." Grayson sat down heavily behind his desk and rubbed his temples wearily.

"I just-" Elena trailed off at the end, not sure how to talk to this man. The 'Dad' she had known growing up, with the distinct smell of leather and oil and the crinkled eyes and laughing smiles, was gone, and had been replaced with a shadow of the father she knew. The leather and oil was the smell of home, bringing a new wave of pain every time it hit her. His eyes were crinkled with worry and the laughing smile was long gone, replaced with dull, aching sadness that could only be from losing Miranda. "I don't know you. I don't know _this_ you."

Grayson met her eyes regretfully. "And I'm glad for that. You had your Mom, and your childhood was untainted by this life Elena. I was just that man who turned up once in a blue moon, seeing you grow up."

"But I still don't know you." She whispered into the tense air.

"I know, but I'm not the man with the family, kiddo. I'm the ruthless one. The one who takes risks because there is no one they can use to hurt me."

"They could use me." She mumbled without fully realizing it.

Grayson stepped forward and grasped her shoulders tightly. "They will not _touch_ you."

Elena nodded. Her Dad wasn't the rose-tinted man she'd known as a child, and the more she grew the more she understood. Her Dad was a Vagrant, one of the most hated Vagrants at that, and he couldn't have a family when he got the chance, so he gave up his family, to keep her safe.

There was a knock on the door, startling both of them out of their quiet thoughts.

"Gray," Giuseppe said firmly. "We need to talk. Now."

Elena didn't wait to be asked to leave. She walked out of the room, leaving her father to talk about her mother's killers and the people who were after her, and she knew that she would never be told about it.

"Hey." Damon whispered, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Follow me."

She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for an explanation. When none arrived, she simply stayed silent, and followed Damon as he led her through a maze of corridors and into a small lounge. He tugged on her sleeve lightly, and pulled her over to the door on the other side of the room that was very slightly ajar.

"-John said it was someone you pissed off Gray. He knows about you, and your past, and out off all the people you've pissed off, who have you pissed off more than Slater?"

"That was twenty-odd years ago!" Grayson insisted. "Slater was killed six years ago."

"Elena was born twenty-odd years ago, Gray." Giuseppe added softly.

"Twenty-three years this October." Grayson muttered absent-mindedly.

"Who's to say he wasn't tracking Miranda to get his revenge? You killed Rose, Gray! An eye for an eye!"

Elena's mouth dropped open. She knew vaguely about her father's bloody past. The whole reason that he couldn't have a family was because too many people wanted him dead. It was too dangerous. But hearing the words, so cold and flat, from the mouth of her father's best friend made the murder on her Dad's hands so much colder. Damon squeezed her arm softly.

"I never killed Rose, Gus! Don't you dare put that on me! Don't put the death of an innocent girl on me!" Grayson roared. "I would never murder a women, let alone a pregnant one. That accident haunts me Gus and you know it does! And with only half of that damn story, how can you even say that!"

Giuseppe fell silent. "However it happened, Rose died and so did Slater's kid. Why is it so unbelievable that he tracked Miranda down?"

"Because she lived for nearly twenty four years after that! Why didn't he kill her the second he found her if that's the case?"

"She was pregnant! Then she had a baby, then a toddler and then a child to look after! Slater was no saint, but losing Rose would never drive him to murdering a child in cold blood." Giuseppe argued reasonably.

"It makes no sense, Gus." Grayson said frustrated. "Slater died six years before the fire. We can't go through every Vengeful that wants me dead."

"Trevor's alive." Giuseppe pointed out. "No one loved Rose more than he did."

"Trevor." Grayson cursed violently.

Elena turned to Damon, her eyes wide with shock. 'Who's Trevor?" she mouthed silently.

Damon shrugged, looking equally shocked. "A Vengeful?" he mouthed back.

Elena sighed and moved away from the door. Their father's had moved back to somebody called John and previous information they already knew and with only half the information, neither Damon nor Elena could make sense of the conversation.

Elena leant against the far wall out of earshot of Grayson and stared at he ceiling. "My head's spinning." She admitted.

"Tell me about it." Damon laughed gently, coming to stand in front of her. "We still know basically nothing and it doesn't seem like they know much more."

"It's just a bunch of names now." Elena said with distaste.

Damon nodded, mentally running through the list of names in his head.

"Rose, Trevor, Slater." He started off with the most recent additions.

"Some guy called John." Elena added quietly.

"Then Michael. That whole family are trouble, but Michael's a right bastard." He said through gritted teeth.

Elena giggled half-heartedly.

"Then, slap bang in the middle, there's you." He pointed out sadly. "Along with Gray."

He watched Elena run her fingers through her hair. With each day he kept picking up little motions. The way she tapping her fingers irregularly on surfaces under awkward situations. The way she ran her fingers through her hair when she was stressed or thinking. The way she bit her lip and looked at him with those big brown eyes… he hadn't placed why she did that yet.

"I can't even begin to wrap my head around-" Elena was cut off suddenly by footsteps and moving chairs coming from next door.

Elena looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her wide, brown eyes were filled with shock and Damon, being impulsive and having no ability to process thoughts, hovered over her, caging her tightly against the rough wall and did the only thing he could think of to make them seem less guilty.

He kissed her.


	12. Nowhere

_Elena looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her wide, brown eyes were filled with shock and Damon, being impulsive and having no ability to process thoughts, hovered over her, caging her tightly against the rough wall and did the only thing he could think of to make them seem less guilty. _

_He kissed her._

* * *

What happened in the next few seconds was both blurry and shockingly clear at the same time.

The clearness came from Elena. From the way her lips felt, soft and warm, under his. From the feel of her hair as his hands moved to tangle them in it. It came from the feel of her hands wrapped tightly around his neck. The way her body molded to his and the way her lips moved beneath his.

The blurriness came afterwards.

"What the hell?" Grayson exploded violently.

Damon broke his lips away from Elena's, breathing heavily but not moving away from her. She leant her head back against the wall, her chest moving rapidly. Her face was flushed and her eyes were bright and excited. Giuseppe stepped into the room, and for the first time, he wasn't taking things lightly. The creases around his eyes were crinkled with worry, and the deep lines settling in his forehead only indicated trouble.

"Dad." Damon said suddenly, and just like that the tension seeped out of the room. Damon Salvatore, however much he loved his father, hadn't addressed him as 'Dad' in years. Not in company at least. Not anymore. "Dad, what happened?"

Giuseppe sighed and sat down heavily onto one of the plush leather sofas. "Sit down."

"Giuseppe," Grayson started to say slowly. "Do you really think-?"

"Yes." Giuseppe cut him off sharply. "I've humored you long enough. I'm telling them both everything and if you try to stop me, so help me god I will cut you loose."

Grayson nodded once, accepting the authority in the other man's words and leant rigidly against a doorframe. Damon wound his way to another of the sofas, a hand resting gently on Elena's back. Grayson watched them both like a hawk, and despite his natural instinct to kick Damon's ass he knew the kid better than he knew his own daughter and he had watched him grow up from a good kid with his mischievous habits to a good man who was as loyal as he was dangerous.

"Start with John." Grayson prompted from the corner.

Giuseppe sighed. "John was in the Riot Bunch ten, eleven years ago and he quit to become a police officer. Give us a police officer with the know how of a M.C and you have nearly a sure fire way to get leads that will give us the upper hand."

Damon stared at his father steadily, not breaking his gaze. "You knew him." Giuseppe said to his son. "John Somers."

"John _Somers_?" Elena gasped, glancing at Damon for a split-second. "John's been helping you with this case?"

The three men stared at her incredulously. Elena shrugged. "I know him."

"John's the guy who knew who worked in the police dept.?" Damon snorted incredibly. "How many circles does this guy run in?"

"Enough to make him dangerous." Grayson said pessimistically.

Elena snorted quietly. "Sure he's got a wild side, and I knew he was in to bikes but he's not dangerous. He's loyal as hell."

"That's the point." Giuseppe said darkly. "Loyal to who?"

* * *

"They're crazy!" Elena said loudly when both older men left the room.

"They have a right to wonder." Damon said reasonably. "How many people could you say that right now you trusted one hundred percent?" Elena glared at him. "Answer the question." He demanded.

"You."

"And?"

Elena shrugged. "I don't trust many people."

"You don't trust Gray?" Damon said gently.

She shrugged and folded her arms over her chest. "Not exactly."

And he stopped. He stopped the questioning; he stopped trying to change her mind. He stopped and let her be. He stopped; he just stopped and watched her unfold, slowly letting him in.

"You're quiet." She noted as they subconsciously wandered towards the bike sheds.

He looked at her mysteriously and swung a leg over his bike, forgetting about his proper leathers and fastening his black helmet over his head.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Come on. We have research to do."

Elena grinned and grabbed her helmet and sliding it on her head. She sighed and she swung her leg over the bike. Somehow skintight jeans weren't a practical clothing option for her. At least she'd had the sense to wear flat shoes.

Damon's shadowy black bike raced off into the late afternoon sun with her following behind, the black of the paint job reflecting blue in the fading sunlight.

What seemed like moments later, she was staring at a warehouse illuminated by the soft glow of dimmed lighting.

"Research?" she asked skeptically, pulling up beside him, glancing momentarily at the scarce selection of bikes lined up outside.

He glanced at her, those ice blue irises smiling at her. He took her hand hesitantly and led her inside to the small bar set up at the back.

"Damon Salvatore." The bartender greeted enthusiastically. "You've not been down this way in months."

Damon nodded, smiling ever so slightly, tapping an irregular beat onto the worn wooden bar top. "You know I love it here."

Elena tuned out of the conversation transpiring between the two men and studied the large warehouse room. It was mostly empty, a few scattered groups standing idly around the room. The lighting was dim and flickering and the whole room had the feeling that more happened here that anyone realized.

"You don't usually bring women down this way, do you?" the barman asked chuckling. Elena brought her gaze back to meet the young barman's face. "Elijah." He nodded in greeting.

"As in Klaus?" she questioned, glancing at Damon who gave an almost invisible nod.

Elijah nodded and grinned at her. "Elena Gilbert." She introduced herself, studying Elijah's face to gauge his reaction.

"So there's more." He said, more to himself. "Grayson's daughter?" She nodded slowly. Elijah stared at Damon accusingly. "What brings you to our neck of the woods? Michael's been circling recently."

"Information." Damon said bluntly, abruptly standing up and leading Elena over to a small table situated near the edge of the dance floor.

Elena snorted and looked around the deserted bar. "You're getting information from here?"

Damon leant back in his chair, once again, tapping out a beat with his fingers. "Watch it come to life."

* * *

A couple hours and several drinks later, the place was electric.

"What is this place?" Elena asked, her eyes bright and captivating under the lighting.

"It's the Warehouse." Damon said leaning forwards so she could hear him.

Elena smiled softly at him without reason, and as quickly as the smile appeared it was gone, faded into her flushed cheeks. "Imaginative name, but _what_ is it?"

"It's where you go." Damon shrugged. "You need something, you come here."

"And what's wrong with a regular shop?" she asked cheekily.

Damon smirked crookedly. "Okay. If you need something illegal, highly suspicious or dangerously obtained, you come here." He corrected, counting the options off on his fingers.

Elena laughed loudly, causing heads to turn in her direction. This was a place where faces were known in the crowd and the newbies stood like beacons.

"Why are we here?" she asked, leaning backwards onto the counter, looking so utterly untouchable he had never wanted her so badly.

"Information." He announced, gulping down the last of his drink and taking her hand. "Watch and learn."

So she did. She watched the ways he picked people out of the thrall and laughed charmingly with them, flirting his way into an easy target. She saw the way the second they let slip something useful he would excuse himself and disappear into the jostling crowds. She saw the way his frown deepened and he stalked off abruptly – but not before glancing around the room and locking eyes with her. In a way it worried her. It was like he was checking to make sure she was still there.

Elena gave up watching and stalked back to the bar.

"He shouldn't have left you alone." Elijah said good-naturedly. "This isn't the safest place for you to be." She raised an eyebrow without a word and drank another sip of her beer. She made a skeptical noise of agreement. "I mean it."

She put her bottle down and stared Elijah down. "_Nowhere_ is safe for me." She said through gritted teeth.

Elijah gave up with her and sauntered down to the other end of the bar.

"Elena! Hi!" Came an excitable voice from behind her.

She turned round slowly, coming face to face with her friend.

"Caroline!" she said, genuinely happy to see the girl. While she classed Caroline as a friend to her, they hadn't had a chance to talk for more than ten minutes without her getting hit by a car or something equally dramatic.

Caroline surprised her with a tight hug. "I can't believe you didn't let me come to L.A with you." She pouted.

"It was kind of last minute." She replied chuckling.

Caroline shrugged. "L.A is L.A and I've never been."

"Hey Gilbert." Klaus interrupted pleasantly. "You're not here by yourself are you?" he asked frowning.

Both girls stared at him intently. "Why?" she said patiently.

Klaus shrugged and refused to answer. "He's over there." Elena sighed, pointing Damon out in the crowd. Klaus gave Caroline a sweet kiss on the cheek and disappeared to join his friend.

Caroline shook her head. "Something weird is going on."

"Tell me about it." Elena spat out angrily. "He refuses to tell me anything."

Caroline smirked. "He'll tell you."

Elena smiled half-heartedly. "I doubt it."

"I've known Damon," Caroline started, "_way_ longer than I like to admit. Trust me when I say he'll tell you."

"He hasn't though. And why should he? No one else has." Elena frowned and ordered another drink.

"Because he likes you. He really likes you, Elena." Caroline said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

A few days ago, Elena would have laughed, but no, having experienced the way his lips felt on hers and the way her whole body had tingled she couldn't deny it.

"Oh my god!" Caroline squealed. "You like him!"

"It's complicated Car'." Elena said wearily, just before Damon wandered over and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Sorry." He murmured in her ear. "Caroline." He greeted dryly.

Caroline grinned widely. "Damon." She threw a wink in Elena's direction. "Bye 'Lena." And walked off in Klaus' direction.

"What was that?" Damon said amused, his arm still wrapped loosely around her shoulder.

"Just Caroline." She chuckled. Her laugh faded on her lips.

"Hey." Damon said gently. "What's up?"

"If I ask you something, will you answer me?" she asked quietly, looking him straight in the eyes. Damon sighed and tugged lightly on her hands so she was standing. "Why is everyone so worried when they see me alone?" Frankly, she was scared to know the answer.

"Not here." Damon replied simply, leading her out of the crowded room and into the cold night air. He glanced around quickly, and led her around a corner into a dark alley. She bounced up and down attempting to warm herself up. Damon chuckled and wrapped his jacket around his shoulder. She wrapped it around herself, inhaling the smell of him. "Why didn't you wear your jacket?" he asked curiously, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

"I forgot it." She said ruefully. She smirked at him coyly. "I got distracted."

He winked at her. "My distraction techniques are _excellent_." Damon looked her up and down appreciatively. He saw her way too often wearing his clothes, and every time it made him want her more.

Elena swallowed roughly, trying to focus on something other that the shocking blue eyes. Something other that the way his lips had felt on hers only hours ago. Something _other_ than Damon Salvatore.

All attempt of focusing on something else was gone the second he leaned in to claim her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him push her back against the wall. His hands found their way from her hair to her waist, pulling her as close to him as humanly possible.

He was like a drug. She'd had one hit and now she was addicted. She was addicted to his laugh, to his smile, to his eyes. She was addicted to his kisses and his touch. She was addicted to _him_.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms tight around her waist. He refused to move his mouth from hers. He felt her smile at his insistence and he pulled away gently, looking her straight in those big brown eyes.

"What was that for?" she asked quietly, gazing up at him.

He pressed his lips against hers softly. "Nothing. I just wanted to."

She rolled her eyes and for the first time, she kissed him. "And I wanted to do that."

He loosed his arms and let her step back from him slightly. "Do you want your questions answered now?"

"Not particularly." Elena said dryly, stepping completely back from him and tried to stop a wide smile creeping onto his face.

"Tough." He stuck his tongue out childishly at her. "You ask, I answer." He threaded his fingers through hers and led her gently back to their bikes. "Meet me at the clubhouse."

Elena studied him, about to say something. Obviously thinking better of it she shrugged off his jacket is handed it back to him. Damon shook his head and gave it back.

"You'll freeze."

"So will you."

He sighed. "Tough."

She laughed lightly and put the jacket back on. "My way or the high way, right?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Damn right."

* * *

She pulled into the workshop and leant against her bike, eyes trained on the open door. She tried not to worry, there had been traffic on the way here, and Damon had once said he wasn't used to traffic, in L.A the traffic had been hell, and she'd been well used to cutting through. She turned around and wandered around to examine the other bikes around the shop. Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind her. She managed to turn around abruptly before a sharp pain erupted on her head and everything went black.

* * *

Damon cursed as he finally pulled into the Vagrant grounds. How hard was it really to navigate traffic? For Elena, it was apparently effortless; he had lost sight of her around half an hour ago when she expertly wound her way through the packed cars. He rolled into the open garage and frowned at Elena's discarded helmet lying on the floor and her bike left standing in the middle of the shop.

He hung her helmet over the handlebars and wheeled her sportster into line. After parking his own bike, he shut up the garage and retreated into the clubhouse.

"Hey Dad." He greeted his father as he walked into the study. He spoke quickly before Giuseppe could start going on about what he'd interrupted earlier. "Don't suppose you know where Elena disappeared to?"

Giuseppe stopped smirking and stared his son down. "She hasn't been in here Damon. I heard a bike about twenty minutes ago, no one's come into the clubhouse."

Damon froze. "I was right behind her." He groaned, running his hand through his hair while he fished out his phone with the other. "But she's better with traffic and got out before me." He called her number and held it to his ear, growling at the irritating message he received.

"Her phone's off." He snarled, jumping out of the seat and making his way towards the door. Giuseppe laid a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

"She'll be fine." He said quietly. "It's the Vengefuls. They take hostages, and they wait until we know they have them before they do anything. They might send us a fruit basket."

Damon's eyes blazed. "This is _Elena_, Dad! Not some nobody who was in the wrong place at the wrong time! They want her _dead_!"

Giuseppe stopped Damon abruptly. "How do you know they want her dead?"

"I was at the Warehouse, I overhead someone say to their friend."

"What did they say, Damon!" Giuseppe asked sternly. "_What did they say?"_

He stared at his father bewildered as he recited the words that made his heart constrict. "She's the one they want dead. Word has it then won't drag it out this time." He said blankly. "I've been over it and over it. They didn't say any names, they didn't say anything _useful_."

Giuseppe grabbed his phone off the dark oak desk. "I'm calling Gray, you better go. He's pissed at you, and now he's going to be ready to kill someone – trust me."

"Where am I suppose to go?" he asked incredulously. "They could be on their way anywhere!"

"Damon!" Giuseppe said exasperated. "How many Vengefuls have you tracked down? Hundreds! If anyone can find her, you can. Not to mention that for once, you actually care about the person you have to find."

Damon shook his head. "You had to work it in there didn't you old man? You just _had_ to make a comment."

Giuseppe shrugged. "You know I had to. Gray will be here soon, make yourself scarce. Call when you find her, Damon, for once. Don't just take her home and crash out with her. For god's sake, just let me know you're okay."

Damon nodded, and clapped his father on the shoulder. "I'll be fine. You're getting sentimental." He managed a small smile and he slipped out the door into the courtyard.

"Be careful you reckless idiot." Giuseppe ordered.

"Aren't I always?" Damon grinned. "Bye Dad!" he called over his shoulder as he ran fun pelt towards his bike.

Giuseppe watched as the black bike drove away, heading somewhere with complete confidence. Damon was good at finding people and weeding them out, he just hoped whatever feelings he had for Elena didn't endanger them both.

* * *

Elena opened her eyes blearily and blinked to clear the fogginess while trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her head. She sat up slowly, drawing her hair away from her face automatically and tying in up in a high ponytail. Her hand brushed past a sensitive spot and the world spun around her.

She winced as she pressed down. Her hand came away red. She stood up shakily and surveyed her surroundings, praying she say something – anything – that looked familiar.

She couldn't believe it. She was standing, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere. There was only hard packed dirt and deserted side roads as far as she could see. She wrapped Damon's jacket tightly around her and fished out her jacket, almost crying when her signal dropped. Had whoever had taken her honestly just left her on the side of the street? Was that how people played their games now?

She sat down dejectedly in the dirt and held her head in her hands.

She didn't know how long she'd been sitting there, but by the feel of her muscles and the lightening sky she'd fallen asleep at some point and she'd been woken by the sound of a old truck running loyally not ten feet away from her.

"You alright there?" a kind faced man asked worriedly.

She looked up, barely daring to believe there was actually someone here. "What time is it?" she asked slowly, standing up shakily. She looked around panicking. "Where am I?"

The man got out his car quickly and walked over to Elena, hesitantly grasping her shoulders. "It's a little after seven a.m. and you're on one of the back roads leading west into Phoenix." He spoke slowly. "What's your name?" he asked gently.

"Elena." She said shakily. The man's presence eased her panic only slightly, she was still clueless to her whereabouts.

"Well Elena, I'm Ric." The guy said kindly. "Wanna tell me what happened?"

"I don't- I don't know." She began. "I was in the garage and someone hit me with something and I woke up here."

Ric's creases in his forehead deepened. "You have no idea who it was?"

She shook her head. "Why are you out here?" she asked suddenly.

"I don't like traffic. I've been out of Phoenix a while, I missed the back roads." He shrugged.

Elena calmed down slightly and a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her. It must have been around midnight when her and Damon had left the Warehouse. She looked around. How long had she been lying there? It can't have been too long.

"Look." Ric said wearily. "Frankly that cut on your head is worrying me. I can take you to the E.R or I can take you somewhere in Phoenix. We're only about an hour out."

"I-" Elena glanced at her phone. She still no signal and her battery was dying rapidly. "Can I can someone? They're probably losing their mind." She managed a small smile.

Ric handed her a phone. "You'll have to wait a bit. You never get enough reception for a phone call out here."

Elena nodded. "Okay."

"Come on. I'm not leaving you out here." Ric ordered, opening the passenger door for her. She climbed in and settled against the worn leather.

"Hey." Ric said, snapping his fingers. "Don't go to sleep, I know enough first aid to know that."

"M'kay." She murmured, trying to keep her eyes open as Ric sped through the dusty back roads way over the speed limit as the sun rose.

"We're about ten minutes out of central Phoenix." Ric said, shocking her out of her daydream. "Try calling, and if there's still no signal I'll ask that breakfast place is they have a phone."

She nodded blearily, fighting to keep her eyes open. She dialed the number she'd been desperate to call for hours and held it to her ear, hoping he would answer.

"_Hullo?"_ came a weary, distorted, yet beautifully familiar voice from the speaker.

"Hey." She croaked out, smiling just a little bit.

There was as silence on the other end for a minute or so. "_Elena?" _Damon asked incredulously.

"Hey Damon." She said weakly.

"_I- you-"_ Damon spluttered. "_Where are you? I'll come get you."_

Elena glanced at the breakfast bar behind her. "Outside some breakfast bar. Apparently we're ten minutes out of Phoenix."

The phone went deadly silent. _"We?"_

Elena cringed. She blamed lack of sleep and trauma for the stupid mistake. Not to mention the pounding in her head. "Someone gave me a ride."

"_Elena!"_ Damon yelled. _"People seem to be intent on killing you and you accept a ride of a stranger? For god's sake, Elena!"_

"Yes I did accept a ride off a stranger." She said shortly. "I was an _hour_ out of the city on one of the back roads, you idiot. I'm damn lucky he drove by-"

"_Oh it was a guy too? This just gets better and better." _Damon snapped sarcastically.

They both sighed simultaneously. _"Look I'm sorry."_ He said quietly. _"But I've been freaking the fuck out 'Lay."_ the nickname slipped out easily. _"Can I come pick you up?"_

She closed her eyes for a second, dozing for a few seconds. "I don't really know where I am."

Ric tapped her shoulder and muttered something. "Bree's, up on Sampson."

Elena mouthed a thank you to him and relayed the information to Damon.

"_I'll be ten minutes max 'Lay. I plan on slaughtering the speed limit."_ He told her bluntly.

She chuckled weakly. "I can last ten minutes." She hung up and gave the phone back to Ric.

"Thank you." She told him sincerely. "I really mean it."

"I just did what anyone would have done." He said modestly.

"Nah. People would have just left me there." She pointed out reasonably.

"Oh whatever. It was nothing. I was heading this way anyway, and you were just sitting there. I had to help you."

"Well thank you." She grinned as wide as she could manage.

"Just promise me you won't end out on any more back roads? And get that cut checked out!" he said grinning. "I think your ride's here." He pointed to a car speeding along the road in the distance, definitely over the speed limit.

Elena sighed. "That's probably him. You're a life saver."

Ric chuckled. "Well if you see me around, come say hey." He told her just as a light blue car cam speeding around the corner.

"I will." She smiled weakly, desperate to go home and _sleep_.

Damon's car skidded to a halt a little way away from her, sending dirt flying into the air. He was out of the car and standing in front of her in moments. He cupped her face in his hands, studying her for any signs of damage. Luckily, her ponytail had loosened and it was draped over her throbbing cut. She wasn't sure what to do. She wasn't sure what to say.

Damon pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping his arms securely around her torso. Elena locked her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck.

"Thanks for picking me up." She murmured into his neck.

Damon, utterly surprising her, kissed her hair sweetly. "Anytime."

* * *

_Sorry for mistakes, I just wanted to get this up. I'll go over it and correct in later. Reviews would be great, this could go in hundreds of directions. What would like to see? I'm open to pretty much everything._

_POLYVORE: .com_


	13. Betrayer

_Damon pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping his arms securely around her torso. Elena locked her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck._

"_Thanks for picking me up." She murmured into his neck._

Damon, utterly surprising her, kissed her hair sweetly. "Anytime."

He pulled away lightly and cupped her face with one hand. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'll survive." She shrugged slightly, too exhausted to put more effort into it. "Somehow I always do."

Damon's eyes saddened as he gazed at the girl in front of him. He tucked the hair falling in front of her face behind her ear gently. He froze, turning her face ever so slightly. "It's still bleeding Lay." He said quietly.

"It's fine." She brushed it off. "I just want to go to sleep."

He sighed and opened his car door and gestured for her to step inside. "Don't go to sleep 'til you get checked out, kay?"

She scowled at him. "I _know_."

He cracked a smile at her. "You're cranky when you're tired."

Elena lifted up her hand and held her thumb and forefinger a fraction apart. "I'm _this_ close to punching you in the face."

Damon roared with laughter and shut her car door, still chuckling as he circled around to the driver's side. Just as he was about to slide in a voice shouted out to him.

"Damon!" Damon recognized him as the man who helped Elena. He whirled around suspiciously.

"Who are- holy shit." He stared at the man in front of him. The guy hadn't aged a day but he'd gone away on business five years ago and it hadn't quite clicked in his mind. "Ric?" Ric laughed his usual full-bellied laughed as he embraced Damon roughly. "Bloody hell, you couldn't have picked up a phone and called could you?"

Ric smirked. "What part of undercover don't you get?"

Damon shook his head. "I wasn't even twenty one when you left, Giuseppe told me you had to 'work abroad'" he shook his head disbelievingly.

"Can you blame him? That was when you wanted nothing to do with the Vagrants and everything to do with girls."

Damon laughed. "That's true. You've missed out on a lot the past couple weeks."

"Damon." Ric's face grew somber. "Why do you think I'm back?"

* * *

"Let me get this straight." Elena said, smiling. "You know Ric? And by complete coincidence he found me on the side of the road and picked me up? Oh and you haven't seen him for five years because he was working undercover and now he's back because of all the messed up shit that's been going on recently?" Elena couldn't help but laugh.

Damon shook his head. "You're part of all the 'messed up shit that's been going on recently' 'Lay."

She shrugged. "What's your point?"

"No point. Now shut up before the doctor comes back to sew your head back together."

"Don't sugar coat it then." She said, glaring at him.

He winked at her and sat down beside her. "Come on, it only hurts for a second when they put the anesthetic in."

She rolled her eyes. "I _know_ that. I've had stitches way more times that I should have. That's not the _point_."

"You make no sense-," he said, prodding her face gently just as the doctor walked back in.

Twenty minutes and a recovery from a numb hand later, Damon finally drove out of the doctor's office.

"Why are you driving a car?" she murmured sleepily. He glanced over at her, all curled up in his passenger seat using his leather jacket as a blanket.

"I like this car." He answered quietly.

"Me too. But you like bikes."

"I was preparing for the worst." He told her, refusing to look at her. "If you were hurt you wouldn't have been able to hang on to the back of my bike."

She shrugged and nuzzled down into his jacket. "This smells like you." She muttered sleepily. "It smells nice."

Damon chuckled. "Can you stay awake just a little bit longer?"

She scowled and sat up slowly in the seat. "You're gonna kill me."

"We're two minutes away from the clubhouse. _Two_ minutes." He told her exasperated. He'd planned on taking her to the apartment Gray had bought for her but the lure of the clubhouse only a few minutes drive away was all too tempting. Not at her exactly, just at having to keep her awake to answer the questions that would be waiting. He pulled slowly into the dusty yard, passing effortlessly through the high metal gates and parked, slowly climbing out. He finally felt his sleepless night hit him.

Elena slid wearily out of the car and stomped over to the main door. He smiled after her, locking the car and following behind her. They walked into Giuseppe's office with Damon's arm around Elena.

"Dad?" Damon yelled, leaving Elena to crash out of the sofa as he checked the other rooms. He couldn't be bothered calling him, and as the exhaustion that had been threatening finally took root and forced him to collapse beside Elena and finally sleep peacefully.

* * *

"I _told_ him not to do this. What does he do? _Exactly_ what I told him not to." Giuseppe said in an amused tone, rousing Damon and Elena from the sofa.

Damon opened his eyes and nodded at his father. "Hey Dad. I'll make up an excuse when I'm actually awake." He glanced at Grayson, cringing at the stony look in his eyes. That was when he noticed Elena's head resting in his lap, separated only by one of the pillows. He grinned lightly at his father and shook her shoulder gently.

"Lay. Get your butt up."

"I really don't like you." She grumbled incoherently against a pillow.

"Wakey wakey." He said, tickling her sides. She squealed and shot upright, laughing uncontrollably. He smiled slightly and stood up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Damon." Grayson said, greeting him warmly, as if he hadn't been glaring at him not thirty seconds earlier. He hadn't heard his daughter laugh like that since she was eight years old and it had warmed his heart. He could cope with Damon – just.

"Gray." Damon greeted, bewildered, hauling Elena up with him. "Don't go back to sleep or you'll never sleep tonight."

"I would. I'm shattered." She insisted.

"S'pose." He mumbled; his words distorted by a yawn. "You wanna tell them about the lovely fun filled night you had or shall I?"

"I told even know what happened." She pointed out before turning to address her father and Giuseppe. "Damon can't navigate traffic." She scowled. "So I got back here before him. Something hit my head and I blacked out, next thing I know I'm an hour out of town in the middle of nowhere on one of those back roads heading east out of Phoenix."

"Someone hit you while you were in Vagrant grounds?" Giuseppe asked sharply, half standing up. Grayson was studying the scene intently.

She nodded. "Third garage." Damon added for good measure. "Vengefuls?" He scowled at his father. "And do you care to explain why you never told me Ric was undercover?"

"How the hell do you know that?" Giuseppe exclaimed shocked.

"_Ric_ was the one who found her curled up on the side of the road at seven in the morning."

"Jesus." Grayson cursed. "Anything could have happened to you."

"Way to be optimistic Dad." She said, going to stand next to him in the archway joining that room with the one next door. He gave her a fierce one-armed hug.

"You aren't optimistic either, kid. I know that cause we happen to be pretty alike."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." She waved him off. "I'm okay, so that's all that mattered." The three men exchanged looks with each other. She frowned, glancing at Damon who was pointedly refusing to meet her gaze. "You're keeping something from me." She accused.

Nobody said anything.

She pushed herself off the ledge she'd been sitting on and stalked out of the room, for once, hoping no one would follow her.

* * *

_**Six hours earlier…**_

"_Dad!" Damon yelled through the empty house. "Giuseppe!"_

"_What?" Giuseppe appeared from behind a door. "Did you find her?"_

"_No!" he ran his hands through his hair. "I've looked fucking everywhere!"_

"_Damon." Giuseppe said quietly. He placed a calming hand on his son's shoulder. "Damon, what did you overhear? At the Warehouse?"_

_He shook his head and burying his face in his hands. "He'll kill her. Slater wanted Grayson dead for compensation for what happened to Rose. Trevor wants Elena dead so he knows what it's like to lose family. It wasn't Slater's baby you know; it was Trevor's. Gray killed Trevor's kid, now Trevor wants to kill his. Not to mention every Vengeful is out for her and Grayson's blood, Dad."_

_Giuseppe blanched, stunned speechless. "They won't kill her."_

"_Have you been listening to a word I've said?" he snapped._

"_Damon!" Giuseppe shouted. "You've been a Vagrant, a real Vagrant actually fighting in this goddamned war for literally five years, I've been doing this since I was old enough to understand! If I say they won't kill her, they won't kill her!"_

"_Why won't they?" Damon roared at his father. "What makes you think they'll keep her alive?"_

"_Because that's what they do, Damon!" He yelled straight back. "Why kill her straight off the bat? Where's the fun in that? Where are the mind games? Where's the revenge?" _

_Damon glared at his father. "And what if they're tired? What if they're sick of the games? It's been over twenty years since Grayson killed Rose, it's been nearly ten since he killed Slater; what if the Vagrants just want her dead?"_

"_They want Grayson dead!" Giuseppe shouted. "Use your brain, boy! They'll lose her to lure Grayson out and kill them both. They'll bloody use her against you too!"_

_Damon stopped dead in the pacing he hadn't been aware he was doing. "How many Vengefuls has Gray killed, Dad?" Damon asked in a low voice._

"_Enough for every one of them to want to kill him." Giuseppe said flatly. "Now get this into your head right now. You were both at the Warehouse tonight – I've heard a dozen rumors about the two of you in the last hour alone. Michael is cunning. He'll use her to get to you."_

_Damon stayed silent._

"_No denying it?" Giuseppe said skeptically. "Normally this is where you do your womanizer speech."_

"_I like her. She's different. So sue me."_

"_You can say that again." Giuseppe muttered. "Different my arse. She's Grayson reincarnated." Damon rolled his eyes. "You better be taking this seriously."_

"_Like a heart attack, Dad."_

_Giuseppe lobbed a pillow at his son's head. "You're lucky I wasn't near something sharp. If it seems like a trick, it probably is. You're good at this Damon, just use your brains for once."_

_Damon nodded and looked his father in the eyes. "If they want to kill Grayson, they'll want to kill you too." He added quietly._

_Giuseppe chuckled. "They've wanted to kill me since I became president. Hell, they've wanted to kill me since I was born. Your grandfather pissed off the Vengefuls too you know."_

"_I can imagine." Damon snorted. _

"_At the end of the day, they want us all dead, but for years it's been Grayson and now they have something to use against him."_

"_So, chief Vagrant, master of the Vengeful plots, where shall I go?"_

"_Anyone else would be dead right now." Giuseppe said dryly. "Anyone else." Damon winked slyly. "Check the back roads leading west out of here on the way to Vegas. Maybe they'll be based there."_

_Damon nodded once as he retreated out of his father's office._

* * *

Elena stomped into the courtyard and into the garage.

"Someone's pissed you off." Klaus grinned as he looked up from his bike to see her storming in.

"No, _really_?" Elena said sarcastically.

"Metal note: Elena gets pissy when she's angry." Klaus said, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Sorry." She muttered, pulling on her riding jacket. She wheeled her bike from its space in the line-up, slipping on her gloves and helmet as she did so.

"Elena." Klaus called out to her. "You can't really be going out by yourself." He said incredulously.

"Yep." She said cheerfully, popping the 'p'. "Trust me, I'll be fine."

"Elena." He repeated, walking towards her. "You're gonna get yourself killed."

"Klaus." She echoed mockingly. "I just need to get away. Five minutes." She told him, smiling slightly.

He sighed and glared at her. "I can't let you go off by yourself. The place is crawling with Vengefuls."

Elena's eyes darkened. "I've been avoiding the Vengefuls longer than everyone here realizes. They were always in L.A too."

Klaus gaped at her. "You can't _leave_."

Elena chuckled and put on foot on the ground, getting ready to kick-start her bike. "I'll be fine." She told him, before her foot kicked hard off the dusty ground and before Klaus could comprehend what was happening she was gone, accelerating out of the courtyard.

In less than a minute, Damon had run outside and was glaring at Klaus. "Did you seriously just let Elena leave? You _moron_. You complete and utter _idiot_."

"Damon. Shut up!" Klaus yelled. "You know what she just told me? She just told me she's been avoiding Vengefuls longer than we realize. She said they were in L.A the whole time."

Damon fell silent and stared at his friend. "So she knew."

"And she knows you're hiding something."

"But so was she."

"God Damon, it's not a game of 'she started it, he started it'!" Klaus yelled at him. "Tell her the fucking truth and she'll tell you why she hid things from you."

Damon scowled and grabbed his helmet form the rack behind him. He swung his leg over his bike and pulled on this jacket.

"Do you even know where she is?"

"Nope." He said flatly, as he started the engine and drove out of the Vagrants grounds.

* * *

"You're in trouble." He growled as he slid into the seat next to her when he finally found her, sitting alone at some desolate bar he never even knew existed. It had been sheer luck when he'd spotted her bike, glinting blue in the setting sun.

"Hi Damon." She said cheerily, emptying the last drops of her drink into her mouth.

"Nice one Elena. Running off into a city where a _lot_ of people want you dead." He said wearily, leaning his crossed arms on the bar top.

"I thought there more Vengefuls were in Vegas." She pointed out casually, ordering herself another drink.

"And in L.A if your little outburst to Klaus is anything to go by." He said, looking at her intently. "Don't serve her anymore." He ordered the bartender, who shrugged, and went about his business, wiping down some glasses. "Seriously Lay, what's going on with you? Vengefuls in L.A? And you never thought that might be relevant?"

Elena shrugged and leant over the bar, effectively capturing the attention of every male within the room as her t-shirt rode up displaying inches of her tanned back and the way her shorts showcased her long legs. She grabbed a beer from the other side of the bar and opened it against the bar top, sitting back in her stool and crossing her legs coyly. "Never came up."

"I'm serious." He bit out, seizing her drink from her.

"Hey!" she protested, scowling. "Why do that?"

"Because I can't be bothered putting up with you if you're gonna get drunk." He said shortly. "We're leaving."

"I'm fine thanks." She said dismissively, taking her bottle back and taking a long drink. "You go."

"Yeah, cause I'm going to leave you here." He said derisively.

"Why not?" she snapped frustrated. "I can take care of myself." She hissed, her eyes were like metal orbs, completely impenetrable and glinting gently in the dim lighting.

"Nobody said you couldn't," he pointed out, taking away her drink gently this time. "And _please_ quit with the raging alcoholism, I don't feel like humoring the drunk tonight."

"Fine," she agreed grudgingly, setting her drink down behind the bar again. "What were you hiding from me?"

Damon dropped his gaze and ran his hands through his hair, showing the signs of wear that he was too young to show. "They want you dead."

"So? We knew that." She pointed out, as casual as she could, considering. She reached out her hand and cupped his cheek with one hand, turning his face towards him. "We knew that."

"They want you dead Elena. This isn't just speculation. It's not some crazy assumption of what we _think_ they want. They want you _dead_ and they won't rest until you're gone." He told her, pulling away from her hand and leaning his forehead against his crossed arms.

Elena took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm sorry I left you know."

He turned his face so his ear leant against his arm and he smirked at her. "So now you're sorry, huh?" he chuckled, straightening up and rolling his shoulders back. "You ready to leave?" She nodded, standing up. "How did you even find this place?" he laughed, staring around at the empty bar.

Elena snorted glancing around. It was a sad place. It was probably the most desolate bar in the whole of Phoenix. "I have no idea." She shook her head and pushed his back gently, shunting him out of the door. "Move it, Salvatore."

Damon stumbled slightly, caught off-guard by her sudden energy. He turned around, staring at her in disbelief. "Did you just push me?" he asked in a low voice.

Elena struggled to keep a straight face, hooting with laughter as she doubled over, unable to catch her breath. Damon couldn't help but smile along with her as her laughter resounded from surface to surface, creating an echo loud enough for the world to hear. He darted towards her, and with the impulse he was so thankful he had, grabbed her suddenly around the waist and lifted her against him, smiling into her lips as she wound her arms firmly around his neck, bringing his lips to meet hers. He kissed her fiercely, gripping her body tightly as he pushed them back against the stonewall of the derelict bar. Her legs were draped around his hips, locking him against her. Her roaming hands raked through his hair, teasing with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

When he finally pulled away, she cracked a small smile. "You have _got _to stop doing that."

He raised an eyebrow, kissing a trail from her neck up to her ear. "Why would I do that?"

"'Cause the Vengefuls want me dead, and you're gonna make their job easier if you give me a heart attack." She pointed out, dropping her legs to the floor, setting her shorter than Damon again and ending the connection between his lips and her neck. He pouted and ran his fingers through the end of her hair, letting the strands fall from his fingertips. His fingers danced along her arms, creating goose bumps as they trailed down to meet her hands. He tugged on their joined hands and led them over to their bikes.

He pointed at her menacingly. "You're going to go straight into the clubhouse." He ordered. "You attract danger like the plague."

Elena rolled her eyes, looking at him reassuringly. "I'm going to go straight into the clubhouse." She mimicked jokingly. "I don't really _want_ to end up in the desert again tonight contrary to popular belief."

"Oh ha-ha. You're hilarious." Damon said dryly.

"I know. It's a talent." She smirked, winking slyly at him. Damon wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him in one fluid motion.

"Quit it!" she yelled teasingly, laughing loudly. "I mean it!" she told him, ignoring his shameless looks. "Nope." She resisted his transfixing eyes, pushing his face away from her lips. Damon grabbed her face and kissed her anyway, ignoring her squeals. "You're incorrigible." She grumbled, her arms hanging innocently around his shoulders.

"And I'm proud of that." He told her, brushing her hair out of her face. "I mean it. Clubhouse."

"Yes sir!" she said earnestly.

"How can you be so incredibly irritating?" he asked as he pulled his helmet on. "It's really something."

"I spend all my time around people like you." She retorted, flinging a leg over her bike. "Bet I beat you."

"Whatever." He replied, slamming his visor shut and riding off into the night.

* * *

"Told you so." Elena trilled smugly as he wandered into the clubhouse a few minutes after her.

Damon flipped her off and leant against the wall. "You wanna see the place Gray got for you? You can get your stuff then I'll drive you over."

"You mean I actually have somewhere to sleep other than sofas, your bed and the endless Phoenix wastelands?" she said, clapping her hands excitedly as she followed him over to the private garage that housed his and Giuseppe's cars. He gritted his teeth, doing his best to ignore the stirring feeling that had begun in his stomach as her words took root.

"You never know, I might dump you on some abandoned road on the way there." He said good-humoredly as he keyed in the code to the lock and unlocked the blue 67' Chevy he'd originally driven to pick her up.

"You try sleeping out in the desert all night and see how _you_ like it." She countered fleetingly, stepping into the garage and climbing into the car furthest away from the one Damon had already unlocked.

"You were unconscious! It can't have been difficult." he said loudly, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration as he stomped over to the black car Elena had decided to sit in and slid inside to join her. "You're the _most_ awkward person." He pointed out irrelevantly.

"Only cause you can't drive through traffic fast enough." Elena replied, smirking, ignoring his last comment. "I could _easily_ blame you for all of that."

Damon glanced at her, vaguely troubled. "Do you?"

"What?" she said completely taken aback. While she'd been lightheartedly playing with him, she should have guessed that Damon felt at least partly liable for what had happened to her while he hadn't been there.

"Do you blame me?" he asked again, his carefree tone gone.

"No." she shrugged. "Never blamed you for a second." She paused for a moment, glancing at him. "I'm not your responsibility."

"You should blame me." He whispered, starting the car and pulling out of the garage. "It was my fault."

"Yes, _you_ made the guy come in and knock me unconscious then abandon me in the middle of the night on a deserted road." She said acidly.

He rolled his eyes and began driving along the interstate leading towards his childhood home. "You're really something." He said, shaking his head as he turned into the winding driveway leading up to his old home.

"Something." She repeated teasingly. "Quite the compliment that."

"You're just fussy." He told her, stepping out of the car and looking at his house. "That's weird," he noted as he circled around to Elena's side of the car and closed the door for her after she had clambered out. "There shouldn't be anyone in." he gestured to the lights shining out from the windows at the front. "Dad's at the clubhouse and Stefan was supposed to be checking out some school out of state…" he trailed off, edging up to his front door and unlocking it slowly, letting it swing open. "Stay here," he whispered urgently to Elena. "And stay down." He pushed her shoulder gently, moving her into a crouching position that was well hidden behind a leafy shrub. She nodded once, scooting backwards and moving further into the shade.

Damon edged into the house, straining to hear any signs of life. Hushed voices came from the lounge, faltering only gently as he slid past the open door. His heart pounded in his chest and a slick bead of sweat dripped down his skin as he crept into his father's study. Moving silently towards the safe he knew lay under the desk; he panicked slightly as his heartbeat grew louder. He swore whoever was inside his house would be able to hear him. He strained against the bad lighting to make out the dial on the steel lockbox that had been located here for as long as he could remember. With tense hands he reached out, manipulating the dial this way and that, starting as the echoing _click_ sounded throughout the silent house. He eased the door open, slowly sliding the handgun that lay there from it's resting place. Loading it noiselessly, he stood up. The journey back outside was apprehensive. Damon's ears were constantly straining to catch snippets of the intruders conversation. The odd words reaching his ears were enough to make him want to charge in there, blazing fury and shoot them dead and cold to the ground.

"The Vagrants have gone soft." He heard one snide voice clearly in his right ear. Clenching his fists he moved quickly onwards, soundlessly retracing his steps. Damon breathed in the cool night air and crouched down beside Elena quickly, pressing his back against the wall.

She swore silently under her breath. "You scared the _shit_ out of me." She paused, staring at the deadly weapon in Damon's hands. "Why do you have that?"

Damon sighed, leaning his head against the rough wall, the dark strokes setting his face in shadow. "I need you to come with me. I need you to stay right behind me, and if I say to run, you run okay?"

Elena nodded mutely, her eyes transfixed on the cold metal in Damon's hands. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

"There's people inside." Damon hissed hurriedly. He gestured vaguely for them to stay quiet. Biting his tongue, he glanced edgeways, peering through the crack in the door and looking at the shadows cast on the hallway and listening to the loud sound of raucous laughter, freezing as one distinct melody ran through the room. While the words they had been speaking hadn't been enough to truly feed the fury growing inside him, the heart-wrenching sense of betrayal now slicing through him had. He shot up immediately, gun pointing to the ground and was moving silently into the house.

"Damon?" Elena asked sounding slightly unnerved as she shadowed him. He motioned to her to stay back and she watched in horror as he slid to the left, face set in a grim line. He took a deep breath, allowing himself only a few seconds to gain composure before darting to the right, disappearing through a door.

The chatter stopped abruptly, Damon's slick voice ringing out like the peal of a bell. "Hello brother."

* * *

_Okay, quick note. I know I have a load of unfinished fics up at the moment, and my main problem with those it that I didn't write a story outline in the beginning (My English teacher always yells at me for it) and I was just writing as it came to which is why updates are always so incredibly stunted. Being me, I wrote outlines for three new stories and have a load of other ideas semi written up which is so dumb it's unreal. I could have written outlines for unfinished stories to sort those out but no, gotta write whole new fics. My main point is to let you know, that yeah Im an idiot, but I'm an idiot who apologises for the long waits between updates._

_Oh, and it's also to warn you I might get bored of the current stories and upload about 5 new ones... Oops._


	14. Thud

Damon burst into the room like a lightning bolt, striking the scene and leaving the occupants stunned into silence, staring vacantly at Damon, appearing in the midst of the storm.

"Hello brother." He said evenly, raising his gun and pointing it straight at Michael's heart without a glance in his brother's direction.

"Damon?" Stefan said, jumping from his seat in alarm.

"Sit." Michael ordered, pushing Stefan's shoulder down with the butt of his gun. Stefan sank back unwillingly, staring at his brother with pained eyes. "So, Damon, how are things?" he asked pleasantly.

"Just brilliant." He replied bitterly, never lowering his weapon. "And you?"

Michael made a vague gesture with the deadly gun in his hands. "Enough with the semantics." He raised his gun, pointing it straight at Damon's chest. "Why are you here?"

Damon scoffed derisively. "Why am I in my father's home?" He glared at his little brother. "More like why are you here?"

"You're brother's just having a little party. Wouldn't want to bust that up would you?" Michael asked condescendingly. "He assured us there would be no one in tonight." He turned the weapon on Stefan, aiming at his heart.

Stefan stood up immediately, pulling his own gun from his jacket and pointing it steadily at Michael's head. "Don't forget who you are, Michael."

Michael scowled, hesitating for a second before he turned it back to Damon. "Guess your little brother toughened up." He shrugged, sighting his target. "Don't worry. We won't kill you. We had our orders." Michael moved closer, smirking evilly. "We get to kill Grayson and we get to wound Giuseppe." He paused, closing his eyes and moaning in mock-satisfaction as if he was daydreaming. "And we get to do _whatever_ we want to that pretty girl I met the other day. Elena, wasn't it?"

Faster than a heartbeat, a gunshot rang out through the room. Michael turned back to Damon, his eyes full of rage. "You touch her, and I kill you myself." He threatened in a low voice, pointing his gun intimidatingly at Michael. "You're lucky it's only Finn that's dead." He motioned to the dead man lying in his kitchen. "If Kol was here he'd be joining your dear brother on the floor."

Michael snarled, loading his gun and sighting Damon, his hands shaking violently. "Why don't you just kill me then?" he yelled in a ragged voice. "Just shoot me. Why drag it out?"

Damon smirked, pressing the cold metal to Michael's temple, pushing him to his knees. "Drop the gun. You give me the answers I want and I'll _consider_ it." He shot his brother a hard look. "Nice friends you're keeping Stefan." He told him in a clipped voice. "How did they buy you off? New house? Nice cars? New family for after Dad and I kill you with our own guns, and if that fails, for after we hunt you down?" Damon stepped closer, keeping his gun trained on Michael, looking his brother up and down in disgust.

"Interesting." Stefan noted quietly, folding his arms across his chest and staring at Damon like he was an interesting new specimen in a scientist's laboratory. "You'd kill for Elena, huh? I don't blame you, she's really something." He looked around, widely exaggerating his movements. "Hey, where _is_ she? I'm guessing she'd around here somewhere, since you're rarely seen without her."

Damon smirked and took a step back, pressing the metal weapon further into Michael's skin. "She'll be far away by now." He answered confidently, hoping it to be the case. Elena was smart, she would be hidden somewhere secluded but he prayed she was close enough to here him tell her, in the most simple way possible, to run.

"By now?" Stefan asked, raising his eyebrows. "So she was around here before?"

Damon stayed silently, flicking the safety off of his gun. "I came alone."

"I call bullshit." Stefan smirked, tilting his head to. "Remember we played that when we were kids? Good times…" he trailed off, rubbing his hands together. "Well I'm off to find Elena, you get your answers out of Michael here however you like."

"Stefan." Michael snarled with fury. "You forget that if he kills me, you lose _everything_."

Stefan sighed and sat down heavily in one of the wooden chairs in the kitchen. "Fine. You get your answers," Stefan pulled his gun back out and flicked off the safety. "But you go too far, or you shoot him," Stefan turned so the gun was pointing at Damon. "Then I shoot you."

Damon's heart pounded in his chest. "Gun. Now." He ordered Michael vehemently. Michael scowled, gesturing to where the gun lay on the floor. Damon picked it up and, shocking even himself, pulled it determinedly on his brother. "Now we talk."

Stefan inhaled deeply, a deep line forming in his forehead. "Sadly, my brother is one of our biggest threats."

"Why them, Stefan?" Damon asked painfully.

"Have you heard of the things Dad had _done_?" Stefan asked incredulously, keeping his gun trained on his brother.

"Yes, and joining his biggest rival is going to make that all better." Damon said sarcastically. "Why are you after Elena?"

"Oh here we go again." Stefan moaned, leaning back in his chair.

"Okay smart arse, I'll start at the beginning. Why did you kill Miranda?" Michael glanced at Stefan, slightly, either way; he was most likely going to die. He told too much then Stefan, or whoever was controlling Stefan killed him, he didn't tell anything Damon shot him on the spot. "Come on Michael, I know you're only out for yourself." Damon smirked. "Why are you after her?"

"Slater-"

"Is dead." Damon said shortly.

"Grayson killed Slater's kid when he killed Rose! Every Vengeful is out for Grayson's blood." Michael said through gritted teeth. "When Grayson killed Slater we started looking. Every one of our efforts was concentrated on finding Miranda."

"How do you even know that name?" Damon shouted.

"It was a whisper." Michael admitted. "An old Vagrant you missed. We forced it out of him, and then, we killed him." He added with added vengeance in his voice.

"Well how about I tell you something you probably don't know?" Damon said cuttingly. "Trevor is high up in the ranking, am I wrong?" Michael didn't say anything. He lifted his chin stared at Damon with cold grey eyes. "Am I wrong?" he snarled viciously.

"No." Michael spat out. "Are you proud of yourself?"

"Not particularly. Your men got lazy, heard them talking at the Warehouse." He explained shortly, shrugging like he was bored. He moved forward, ending up nose to nose with his enemy. "Trevor doesn't want Grayson dead because he killed his best friend. Trevor wants Grayson dead because he killed his child."

Michael's eyes went wide in shock. "Okay, stop." Stefan was growing bored with his brother's endless questions. He had unraveled his mystery surrounding his girl and was two questions away from discovering what was really going on beneath the radar. He pulled his gun back out, pointing it as it brother's head.

Damon pointed the second gun at Stefan's heart. "Who controls you?" he demanded Michael.

"Trevor." He said blankly, staring emotionlessly at the whitewash wall.

"And who controls Trevor?"

"Stop!" bellowed Stefan, moving closer and pressing his gun to the underside of Damon's jaw. "You got your answer." Damon lifted his chin defiantly, staring unblinkingly into his brother's cold, green eyes.

"No brother, I didn't." Damon snarled, pushing Stefan's gun away and pointing his own to his forehead. "Who controls Trevor?" he demanded, punctuating each word with a loaded pause.

Stefan's jaw clenched and his eyes slid from Damon to Michael and back again. His green eyes flickered vaguely for a moment before catching on something behind Damon. He lifted his gun, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He held it out at arm level, pointing it a Damon's shoulder. His wrist flicked, moving his target up by centimeters, his line of sight wavering.

And then he shot.

* * *

Elena felt like her body was being ripped apart as she dropped heavily to the floor, her breath coming in short, ragged breaths. With unclear eyes she registered Stefan seizing Michael around the collar and shoving him forward, sending him stumbling out of a set of French doors. Stefan paused, glancing back at her with a look that might have been regret. His eyes turned cold as he caught sight of Finn's cold body, lying lifeless on the floor. He hauled the body over his shoulder, cleaning up the mess he'd made in his own home. Then he disappeared out of sight.

Dull sounds seemed to be resounding in the air around her, oddly muffled in contrast to the crippling pain in her torso. Damon dropped to his knees in front of her, talking rapidly into a mobile as he struggled to keep her focused on him.

Even through the haze setting in around her eyes, his piercing blue eyes stood out amongst the fog, sparkling sapphires amid the blanket of grey. She felt a darkness tugging at the edges of her consciousness, tempting her with the comfort of nothingness. He cupped her face with both his hands, his anguish-stricken eyes staring at her, desperately trying to coax a response out of her. He held her tightly to his chest and the last thing she remembered was the white-wash wall dappled blue and red, and the soothing melody of his voice as it lulled her into darkness.

* * *

Damon heard the shot ring out, vibrating through the room, a harsh sound penetrating the silent night, followed swiftly by another, both gliding smoothly over his shoulder. He flinched whirling around when no pain hit him, fast enough to see Elena's form slide to the ground. He whipped out his phone, frantically dialing an ambulance. "Get out of here Stefan!" He roared. "This is your _one_ chance, if you're here when the cops arrive I will send you down!"

Stefan glared at him stonily, a faint shadow of regret seeping into his features. He heaved Michael to his feet, shoving him out of the set of door onto the patio and stumbling into a low wall. Stefan hoisted Finn's cold body into the air, and sending one last look at his brother, he disappeared out of the door, yelling at Michael to run.

"My friend," Damon gasped out as the line connected. "She's been shot." He told them, desperately trying to keep Elena focused. "Come on, Elena." He groaned, pressing one hand to her cheek as he rattled off the address to the operator on the other end. He threw his phone to one side, cupping her face with both hands. "You're too good to die like this." He swallowed roughly, pressing his forehead to hers, murmuring soothing words to her. "You'll be okay. Yeah? You just gotta answer me." Damon stared pleadingly into her pale face and unseeing eyes. "Elena!" he yelled, becoming increasingly exasperated as sheer panic overtook his body. "You gotta be okay. You can't leave me in this mess. Grayson will kill me." He smiled weakly, forcing it past the lump in his throat. His breath was becoming more and more ragged as a dull ache began to form in his chest. "Elena." He murmured, stroking her hair back from her face.

The sirens wailed as they arrived in the driveway, and several paramedics stormed the place, shouting orders and questions, but in the end of it all, they left him alone, amid the dappled blue and red walls and bloodstained floor. He followed after them, yelling to go with her.

"Sir, we have a few questions." A stern voice asked, pressing a hand to his shoulder forcing him backwards. Damon fell back defeated as he watched the ambulance drive away in a blur of noise and lights. He raised his weary eyes and stared into the eyes of the cop who had restrained him. He nodded curtly, running his hands through his hair. "Who shot your friend?"

"Do we have to do this now?" Damon asked curtly. "All I know is that I think they were aiming for me and they missed." He confessed hoarsely, purposely avoiding the main question. Perhaps this was the only time he would ever be grateful for the amount of times he'd been arrested; he knew how to avoid the main question.

"What were you doing here?" the cop powered on, a briskness about him which made Damon want to snap his neck.

"I _live_ here. Or my dad does anyway." Damon hissed, gesturing at the house. "We came over here to get some stuff and there was people inside. I went to check and the kitchen was empty. I turn my back to the French doors and _bam_; she's lying on the floor in front of me because she was. I turned around and I saw two people leaving. Right now, she'd lying in a hospital and I don't know if she's dead or alive." The cop nodded slowly, noting things down in a small, leather bound notebook. "Can I go?"

The cop looked at him, staring him in the eyes for a moment before looking down at his notebook again. Damon groaned in frustration and clasped his hands behind his head. He shot the cop a dirty look before he stormed off, running to his car and putting it into gear and driving recklessly out of the driveway, sending dust clouds high into the sky.

* * *

"Elena Gilbert." He gasped out as he skidded to a halt in front of the receptionist desk in the hospital closest to his home. "Where is she?"

The young nurse looked up, staring him up and down cynically. "Are you family?"

Damon groaned in frustration, pacing back and forth. "Is she alive?" he yelled, punching the desk in anger. "Is she okay?"

The nurse looked at him sadly. "I can't release information to non-family members."

"She's important to me." He bit out desperately. "I just need to know she's okay. It's my fault. I was with her when it happened."

Raising an eyebrow, the nurse sighed and typed something into her computer. "You can't see her anyway, there's no news on her condition."

Damon bent over the desk, leaning his head in his hands. "Hey," an older nurse said to him, motioning him over. She was middle-aged with laughter lines and a bright smile. "She was alive earlier, I was on duty when they brought her in."

"Was?" Damon choked out, his eyes wide as his world stopped spinning. The nurse laid a hand on his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. He sprinted out of the long, winding halls and out into the open air, breathing in deep, even breaths of the clean air. He ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he pressed the speed dial, holding it to his face. His eyes were closed tight as he tried to keep his emotions under wraps.

"Damon." Giuseppe said, surprised at his son's late night call. "Are you in jail? I thought you'd be curled up with your girl by now." he asked jokingly, trying to prompt his son into answering. Damon leant his forehead against the wall, his hands trembling furiously. "Damon?" he asked urgently, his fatherly instincts stirring underneath his immediate surprise.

Damon swallowed roughly past the lump in his throat. "It's Elena." He gasped out, his voice foreign to his own ears. "She was shot."

Giuseppe dropped his phone like it had suddenly shocked him. "Damon in jail again?" Grayson chuckled as he walked into the room, offering a beer to his friend. "You gotta give the kid credit, he'd never once spent more than a night."

"Gray." Giuseppe said, oddly calm as he took both beers off his friend and desk them on the dark wooden desk. "Elena was shot."

Grayson paled, the healthy color of his skin diminishing rapidly as the words registered in his mind. "Shot?" he choked out, waiting for a contradiction.

Giuseppe nodded somberly, motioning towards the door. "They won't tell Damon anything because he's not family."

"Damon?" Grayson said in a low voice. "Why is he always the center of everything?" he roared, punching a wall. "Why can't he keep her safe?"

"Stop." Grayson bellowed, restraining him and pushing against a wall. "If you can't see it then you're _blind_." Grayson calmed down slightly, pushing Giuseppe's restraining arm away and storming outside. "You're blind Gray!" Giuseppe shouted after his friend.

"Blind to what?" he snapped. "My daughter has been shot because _your_ son couldn't keep her safe."

"No." Giuseppe hissed angrily. "This wasn't Damon's fault. He would have taken that bullet for her in a heartbeat."

"Then why didn't he!" he retorted loudly, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Use your brain, Gray." Giuseppe groaned, getting into a car and putting it into gear. "She's got him wrapped around her little finger the way Miranda had with you!" Grayson snorted derisively, sliding ungraciously into the car and fastening his seatbelt. "He's falling in love with her if he hasn't already. So you're blind if you think he didn't do everything he could to keep her safe."

"Where are we going?" Grayson snapped, ignoring his friend's ludicrous assumptions.

Giuseppe scowled. "We're not going anywhere until you open your damn eyes, Gray."

* * *

Damon strayed back into the building with its dreary walls and passed the reception desk bleakly. "Can I see her yet?"

The nurse looked at him understandingly. "She's got no listed next of kin, _technically_, you can wait in the waiting room." She admitted grudgingly.

Damon stared at the woman incredulously. "You're kidding me?" he said blankly. The nurse shook her head. "Don't let _anyone_ else in there, got it?" he ordered.

She nodded, making a note in her computer. Perhaps there was something in his voice or in his face that made her listen. Perhaps it was the defeated look in his eyes. She gave him simple directions to a small waiting room in the ICU where there was nothing but the dull beeps of machinery creating an eerie melody in the silence to keep him company. He rested his head in his hands, taking shaky breaths to pass the time.

He didn't know how long it was before a doctor arrived, dressed in scrubs with her young face looking beaten and tired. "Elena Gilbert?" she queried. He nodded, sitting forwards eager for news. "She's alive." She sat down heavily in the unoccupied seat next to Damon and spoke gravely after a moment's silence. "But it's a fine line."

"Between what?"

"Between being okay and there being irreversible damage." She said seriously. "We don't know the extent of the damage as of late, but with two gunshot wounds to the torso, you're looking at a dangerous position to be in."

Damon buried his face in his hands, staring pleadingly up at the doctor through the tips of his fingers. "Do you have any good news?"

"She's alive." The doctor gave him a thin-lipped smile, clasping his shoulder gently. "That's better that most could have hoped for."

Damon breathed out a ragged breath. "Can I sit with her?"

"There are no visiting restrictions in the ICU," the doctor told him as she stood up. "You can stay with her as long as she's here."

Damon shot up immediately, listening vaguely to the directions she gave him and shooting off in the direction he indicated. It was only a few minutes later when he caught glance of her through the clear glass window. He edged quietly into the room and dragged a seat over to her bedside. He sat down heavily and gingerly took her hand between both of his palms.

"Hey." Elena croaked, her eyes were shut tightly as if she was trying to block out the pain.

"Hey back." He cleared his throat uneasily, and squeezed her hand gently. "How you feeling?"

"Like hell." She groaned, the noise of irritation swiftly turning to one of pain. "Go tell them to knock me out with pain med."

He closed his eyes, chuckling weakly. "Only you." He told her, pressing their joined hands to his lips.

"Damon." She groaned, her face pulled tight in pain. "I mean it."

He stood up quietly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Okay. I'll be back." She didn't reply. She just lay there, her skin a disconcerting shade of white, with her eyes squeezed shut. "Doc." He called out, seeing the doctor from earlier ahead of him in the hallway. "She says she wants more pain medication." The doctor whirled around, her face worried.

"She shouldn't be awake." She muttered absently, dashing to the nurses' station and ordering them to do something concerning a drip. "She should be out cold."

Damon caught the doctor's arm before he turned away. "Then why isn't she?"

The doctor, or Meredith Fell as it said on her badge, smiled weakly. "Guess she's a fighter." She nodded once to him. "Let the nurses put her on the drip then you can go back in with her."

Damon nodded. "Thank you." He whispered sincerely. Meredith's eyes softened as she smiled lightly at him.

"We're looking after her. We'll know more in a few hours." She told him before she walked away to tend to her other patients. It was then that he realized he still didn't have an answer. He didn't have the 'yeah, she's going to be okay' that he desperately needed.

Damon retreated back to Elena's room, leaning his head against the glass window as he watched her face tense and her body stiffened as the nurses shifted her slightly. He bit his lip to stop himself from shouting at them. They knew what she needed; he didn't and evidently, that was why she was lying there and he wasn't. The nurses left, leaving Elena out cold. He resumed his earlier position with her cold hand clasped in his grip. He rested his lips on his own thumbs as he sat there, the grim realization sinking in that she was lying there, her fate unknown, because he was too preoccupied with getting his answers that he couldn't keep her safe. He closed his eyes dejectedly, standing up slowly and leaving the room to call his father.

"Where are you?" he asked monotonously the second the dialing tone stopped.

"What's wrong?" his father shot back immediately. Damon could almost imagine the deep frown in his father's forehead. "Is she okay?"

"She's alive right now." He said, forcing the words out involuntarily.

"Right now?" Giuseppe echoed dully.

Damon nodded before he remembered he was on a phone. He cleared his throat, "Yeah. Doctor says they'll know more in a couple hours."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"They don't know." Damon whispered quietly. "Where's Gray?"

"Right beside me, and he-" there was a scuffle over the line, followed by a dull muffling sound and the vague sound of hushed arguing. "Damon-"

His father was cut off rudely and Grayson's clear voice came on the only. "You couldn't just keep her safe could you? She gets here, first day she gets hit by a car. Next thing, she's been shot." he growled roughly. "You should have kept her safe."

Damon nearly broke his phone in his fierce grip. "I tried."

"Try harder." Grayson snapped. "You're supposed to be…" he paused, clearly unsure of what to call the relationship between his daughter and Damon. "You're supposed to keep her safe."

"The bullets missed me by an inch. An _inch_." Damon hissed into the phone. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the aftermath of what was coming next. "You're supposed to be her father. What's your excuse? Where are you while you're daughter's lying in a hospital bed?" he hung up swiftly. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest as he numbly placed the phone back in his pocket and went back inside, situating himself by Elena's side.

* * *

"Damon?" Elena said to him softly, rousing him from his snooze. He lifted his head from its position hanging over the back of the chair. He looked at her blearily, refusing to believe she was conscious and capable of holding a conversation.

"Go back to sleep, Lay." He murmured letting his eyes droop closed. This had happened multiple times over the last week. She awoke briefly, said a few drowsy words to him before passing out minutes later. He'd barely left her side in the three days she had been in IC and the seven after that when they said she would recover. In a way, the past seven days had been as bad as the first three; the never-ending waiting was driving him insane.

"No." she said stubbornly, pushing herself up so she was in a sitting position. "Wake up!" she said laughing weakly, wincing slightly.

He opened one eye disbelievingly. "You're really awake?" he asked dubiously. "This has happened before, you normally pass out a few minutes later."

She looked at him blankly. "The last thing I remember was demanding pain meds from you." She confessed, running her hands through her hair. "How long ago was that?"

He leant forward, rubbing his weary face. "Ten days." He admitted, taking her hand softly in his and pressing it to his lips.

"You've been here ten days?" Elena said in astonishment, eyeing his appearance with knowing eyes.

"Technically I've only been _here_ seven." He pointed out, rolling his shoulder backwards and cracking his neck. "You were in the ICU for about three days before that."

She stared at him in shock. "What happened?" she whispered.

Damon sighed, glancing at the doorway. "We need to talk about that." He ran his hands through his hair. "What do you remember?"

"We were at yours, and Stefan was there and Michael…" she trailed off, gazing up at him with big eyes. "You killed someone." She breathed quietly. "I saw the body, and you had guns…"

"Elena." He whispered, cupping her face gently. "We went to get you clothes. I heard people inside and went inside to check. You followed me in and the kitchen was empty. I turned around to talk to you and someone shot you from the French doors, okay?" he spoke quickly. "You don't know who is was and everything is pretty fuzzy. Okay?" he prompted. She nodded numbly, her breath coming in short breaths. "Hey." He said, brushing her hair back from her face. "Okay? It's important."

She nodded again. "I was shot?" she asked, brushing her chest absently with her hand. "Where?"

Damon's eyes tightened and he withdrew slightly. "Here," He brushed a particularly painful spot near the middle of her ribs. "And here." He said, pressing a throbbing area near her collarbone. "No one understands show you managed to survive." His eyes were drawn and cold, a shell of their previous beauty.

Looking blankly around the room, she refused to look at his eyes, knowing she would only see ice, not the burning light within them. "Where's Grayson?"

"Not here." He said shortly. "He's never here when I am. We've had _words_." He added delicately.

Elena snorted. "Words." She echoed.

"Yeah."

"What's up with you?" she asked bluntly, staring at him oddly. "You're acting weird."

Damon smiled weakly, the corners of his mouth only lifting slightly while his eyes remained dead. "You were shot, Lay." She shrugged flippantly. "It's my fault. You're in danger because I put you there."

She furrowed her brow. "No." she protested adamantly shaking her head. "No, I was already in danger."

Damon took her hand softly, standing up gently. He could feel his bones cracking. "This thing that's been going on." He said weakly, gesturing between the two of them. "I can't keep doing it. It's not helping anything. It's making you a target for more that just revenge." Finally, his eyes showed some emotion; a guilt as deep as the ocean is wide.

Elena drew back in shock, staring at Damon in disbelief. "Yes, because not being 'involved'" she said, mockingly putting air quotations around the word. "With you is going to make difference when a whole motorcycle club wants me dead."

"I can't, Elena." He told her regretfully. "You've almost died, more that once, in the past few days and I just can't."

She lay back in the stiff hospital pillows, staring at him with hard eyes. "If you can't, then why are you still here."

"It's my fault you're here, I wanted to make sure you're okay." He said halfheartedly as he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Great." She snapped, gesturing towards the door. "You can go now."

"Elena." He sighed in exasperation.

"Seriously. Just go, there's no point. We're not going to be friends either, because that involves actual emotions and that could make me a target, right?" she said angrily, her eyes blazing with a ferocity that only she could muster.

"Seriously?" he echoed. "You think I want to do this? I don't want to do this." He protested.

"But you did. So you can go now, I'm fine; alive and talking and everything. You did you're job, now _go_."

Damon stared at her intense eyes, looking beyond the anger to the hurt nestling there. He sighed, clenching his jaw. She'd told him, not even a month ago, that she expected him to leave, and he could see in her eyes that she was remembering the safe conversation. "You know I didn't mean it like that." He said, irritation budding in his chest. She was being deliberately obtuse; refusing to see the other side to every story.

"Does it really matter? You're still going to walk out that door."

He looked at her for a moment, considering telling her something that would make it all okay. He wanted to sit next to her again, talking to her, rolling his eyes at her bad jokes. He wanted to apologize and tell her he was being stupid and that he hadn't mean it; but he couldn't. She was in danger as long as she was involved with him, so he did was he didn't want to. He turned around on his heel and stormed out the door, swinging it shut with a resounding thud behind him.

* * *

**A/N: OMGASDGHJK,MNBG I CAN'T EVEN. THAT EPISODE SDFGHJKL;HGCVBJUGV OMGV CFHBJSEUFB ZK CEV HDVSHGZASDFGHJKNBFREDFGT7YVJ H CL./'PO;BLJVIYC**

**just, omg.**


	15. Yours

Damon stormed out the hospital; making his way back through the hallway he was so familiar with and out into the open air. He tried to ignore the dull thudding in his chest and the knot of unease shifting slowly in his stomach. He climbed into his car, pulling on the gears with a renewed ferocity. Flipping the radio, he tuned into the first clear station he could find, letting the loud beats drown out his conscience. As he drove through the interstates slaughtering any and all speed limits, he kept his mind free from Elena. He focused on the dust track roads he was taking to cut down the journey time; he focused on the gas level as it creaked closer and closer to zero. He refused to let his mind wander from anything other that the road, the car, and where he was going. He pulled carelessly into the driveway of his destination, stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut amid a haze of dust.

"Ric!" he bellowed, pounding on the rough wood door. "Open the fucking door."

Ric appeared through the frosted glass surrounding the door, stumbling slightly as he grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. "Damon." He said tiredly, leaning heavily on the doorframe. "It's six in the bloody morning. Someone better be dead." Damon shrugged. Technically, someone was dead; it had been ten days ago but still, it was linked – sort of.

"And I'm awake, which means you should be too." He said, inviting himself into the house and closing the door. Ric stood near him, rubbing his chin wearily with one hand as he blinked blearily, attempting to get a grip on the situation.

"And why are you here instead of with Elena?" Ric asked sleepily, moving sluggishly into the kitchen to turn on the only kitchen appliance he knew how to work. The coffee machine made its reassuring noises as Ric settled himself at the kitchen island, rubbing his eyes gently. "I thought you two were all feelings and shit."

"She's at the hospital." Damon said tightly, ignoring the stab of hurt slicing through him as he acknowledged that whatever he and Elena may have had yesterday was gone and completely destroyed as of about thirty-four minutes ago. "And you gotta get more sleep buddy."

"Why's she at the hospital?" he asked, absently filling his mug full of coffee and inhaling deeply.

"She got shot." Damon said, leaning against a wall. "That's not what's important."

"She was shot?" Ric said, managing to conjure up energy from somewhere as inject some emotion into his voice. "Where? When? Is she okay?"

"Twice in the chest twice, ten days ago." Damon relayed dully, crossing his arms looking completely bored. "There were some bad hours," he said quietly, remembering the helplessness he'd felt as Meredith told him one evening, in fewer words, that she wasn't likely to last through the night. He hadn't slept for more that a few minutes at a time until she dismissed her previous statement, well into the early hours of the morning. "But she made it through."

"Jesus. How did she survive _that_?" Ric said looking pale. He glanced down at his coffee and back up at Damon, looking slightly shell-shocked. "I think I need more coffee for whatever you're planning."

"I'm not planning anything." Damon denied guiltily. "It's not even related."

"So why are you here instead of with Elena?" Ric probed, staring the younger man down intently. "I know you and her have some weird _thing _together," he said mockingly. "So why are you here waking me up in the middle of the night instead of with her?"

"It's six in the morning." He stated, pointing out of the window. "It's light out."

"Answer the question, Damon."

"We had a fight. We don't have a _thing_ anymore. It's done." Damon said bluntly, avoiding eye contact. "So can we drop it?"

Ric stared at his friend for a moment, taking in the bruise-like shadows under his eyes and the worn lines in his face and the haunted look still lingering around the edges of his eyes. He saw all these things; he saw the pain and worry etched deep into his face, and he still dropped it. He nodded mutely. "Why are you here then?"

Damon sighed, stretching his arms out in front of him. "I need to find my brother."

"Why? Stefan's young, let him go crazy."

"You _don't_ want to know the answer to that." Damon said tiredly. "Can you find him?"

Ric groaned, leaning his head on his arms. "I hate you, Damon. It's six in the morning. I don't have time to track down your missing family members."

"Ric," He said carefully. "I need to ask him questions."

"What's so important it can't wait until he comes back from his little _vacances_?"

"Do you think speaking French makes you sound smarter?" he teased lightheartedly, raising his eyebrows at his friend. "You didn't even bother with the accent. Now you look like an idiot."

"Damon." Ric said shrewdly. "What's so important it can't wait?"

"You _really_ don't want me to answer that."

"Damon." He challenged warningly.

"Ric." Damon mocked, running his hands through his hair. "Do you want to tell me about every detail of your undercover work?"

Ric scowled. "At six in the morning, you're lucky you're even getting coherent dialogue."

He rolled his eyes. "Let's say, my little brother has some explaining to do." Damon said evasively. "If you find him, let me know."

"What has he done, Damon?"

Damon sighed, leaning his head in his hands. "Sometimes I don't even know."

* * *

"Hey!" a bubbly voice said excitedly as Caroline exploded into the room in a blur of blonde hair. "How are you? I've been by a couple time-" she paused, looking around unsurely. "Where's Damon?"

"He left." Elena replied emptily, hoisting herself upright. "And I'm better." She shrugged slightly.

Caroline's eye's narrowed. "Why did he leave? He'd been here non-stop."

"Because I woke up I guess." Elena snapped bitterly. "I'm okay so he left."

"He just left?" she said, her mind rejecting the information. She supposed Caroline didn't get it either.

"We may have had words before he left."

Caroline rolled her eyes exasperated. "You two are going to kill me. When he comes back just force him to talk about it. He actually likes you; he'll listen."

"I don't think he's coming back Care." Elena said in a small voice.

"What do you mean he's not coming back?" Caroline exclaimed incredulously.

Elena shrugged, running her hands through the hair. "Something's been going on Care. He didn't even tell me what really happened; he told me _his_ version. I'm stuck in a hospital with two bullet wounds in my chest and no idea how they got there! No one is telling me anything!"

"Ugh, tell me about it." Caroline griped. "Klaus is constantly working at the clubhouse. He's looking for something." She said cryptically, her green eyes sad, beautiful and sad. Caroline paused, a sly smile crossing over her features.

"Oh god, what are you planning?" Elena moaned, chuckling slightly, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in her chest.

"Klaus and Damon aren't the only Vagrants we know." She pointed out casually, her eyes flashed impishly and she clapped her hands together, laughing with excitement. "If our boys won't tell us anything-"

"Your boys." She corrected, absently cutting Caroline off. "Whatever was going on with me and Damon is over. He made sure of that." Elena said sullenly.

"So he just cut it off?" she repeated, her face blank. "Completely?"

"Yeah." Elena shrugging.

Caroline paused for a moment, clearly thinking things over. "That makes my plan even better!" she squealed enthusiastically. "When are you getting out of here?"

"Tomorrow morning."

Caroline grinned at her slyly, leaning her chin in her hands and batting her long eyelashes. "How do you feel about coming out with me tomorrow night?"

Elena snorted skeptically. "And how does this benefit us in _any_ way?"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "We're getting Matt and Tyler to come have drinks with us." She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Again," Elena asked laughing brightly. "What exactly are the benefits of that?"

"Okay you need a serious overhaul, 'Lena." Caroline sighed sadly. "Matt thinks you're gorgeous, he's been dying to ask you out. Give him some alcohol and he'll tell you anything you want!"

"I don't know Care…" she trailed off doubtfully. "That seems kinda harsh on Matt. He might get crazy drunk but he'll still remember it in the morning."

"It'll piss Damon off. Jealous Damon is my favorite Damon." She said, her smile roguish.

"Just what I need," Elena grumbled, her resolve waning. "Damon being pissed of at me. That'll be _fun_." She added sarcastically.

"Does that mean you'll do it?" Caroline begged, deliberately ignoring the sarcastic tone Elena was using. "Come on 'Len, it _will_ be fun!"

"One drink." She agreed reluctantly, snorting at Caroline's excited smile. "I mean it, _one_ drink."

Caroline threw her arms around her, laughing like maniac. "You're the best! It's nice having you around; I've been stuck with the guys for years." She griped irritated, but anyone could see the love she had for the guys she'd replaced her family with.

"One drink Care." Elena reminded her firmly.

"Yeah yeah, one drink."

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me." Ric said, a while later when Damon finished his account of what had been going on. It had taken nearly an hour of badgering, blackmail and manipulation on Ric's part, and several unfair deals but Damon had cracked and spilled his guts to his friend. "Giuseppe doesn't half skim over the details."

Damon shrugged, rubbing his face with his hands. "Tell me about it."

"So that's why you want to find him?" Ric clarified. "Why did you even let them go?"

Damon looked away from Ric's intense gaze and retreated within himself, the memories of that night replaying in his head for the hundredth time. Why _had_ he let them escape? This could all be over if he'd just ran after them. But of course, he'd stayed and prayed that Elena would be okay. He'd stayed with her, and let her shooter run free. If more ways than one, all he did was put her in more danger. "You know why."

"No." Ric said dryly. "I really don't, so you better start talking."

"For god's sake Ric. You _know_ why."

"Suppose I do; still doesn't explain why you're here and not there."

"I'm no good for her Ric." Damon said, finally letting a sliver of emotion creep into his voice. The tight regret edging around his eyes wasn't foreign to Ric; he felt it too when heartbreaking memories resurfaced in his mind.

"Isn't Grayson supposed to tell you that?" Ric chuckled lightly, pouring more coffee and laying his head on the counter. "You'll be the death of me Damon. I can safely say I haven't missed you morning people." He groaned, rubbing his face wearily.

Damon cracked a smile. "Drink your coffee." He sobered up slightly. "And he _did_ tell me that." He admitted sheepishly.

Ric spluttered with laughter. "Grayson told you to stay away from his daughter?" He coughed slightly, clearing his throat. "That's rich. He's only one of the most hated people in Phoenix. The cops want him sent down, but of course, no evidence." Ric said grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"You seem so smug about that." He noted nonchalantly.

"Course I'm smug. Who do you think gets rid of the evidence?" Ric asked him incredulously.

This time it was Damon who exploded with laughter. "_You_? God, what don't you do?"

"Me." He confirmed grinning like a kid on Christmas day. "And I do everything, Giuseppe ropes me into it all _constantly_."

Damon smirked at his friend; he knew first hand how persuading his father could be. He caught sight of the clock on the wall. "I should go you know." He said regretfully.

"You should." The older man agreed, yawning widely. "Then I can get some sleep."

Damon stood up, smirking at his friend. "Call me if you find him." He reminded him quietly, his smile dying on his lips.

"I will."

* * *

"Damon. What the fuck is going on with you and Elena?" Klaus demanded the second Damon opened his apartment door. "Caroline just called me going on about what an ass you were. I thought you liked her, man."

Damon groaned and attempted to shut the door in his friend's face. "Go away."

"No." Klaus said stubbornly, storming into the apartment. "When did you last see her? I mean you two are practically joined at the hip."

"Go away." Damon repeated through gritted teeth. "It's none of your business."

"When _your_ girl starts talking to Caroline – and Caroline never shuts up by the way –then it's _my_ business when I start going deaf."

"She's not my girl." Damon bit out, folding his arms across his chest. "I saw her yesterday morning, no big deal." He groaned.

"You're a crappy friend you know, she got out the hospital _this_ morning. And she _is_ your girl Damon and you know it. Matt's had his eye on her since she got here, but the guy didn't make a move because everyone knows she's _yours_."

Damon's head shot up. "Matt and Elena?"

"No. Matt," Klaus paused significantly. "Then Elena, then you." he corrected.

"You sound so much like Caroline sometimes." Damon said shaking his head. "It's horrible."

"What can I say?" Klaus chuckled ruefully. "She grows on you."

"Not on me." Damon protested, a look of horror spreading over his face. "Why are you even here?"

"Because you fucked up with Elena and I know you're miserable."

"I'm not miserable!" Damon exclaimed defiantly.

"Damon." Klaus said patiently, looking at his friend intently. "You're miserable. So you're gonna tell me _why_ you fucked things up with her then you're gonna go find her." he told him bluntly, helping himself to a beer from Damon's fridge.

"How the hell am I supposed to find her?" he gasped incredulously. "You do realize she likes to fucking run away whenever possible."

"Only when people like you make her." Klaus said knowingly, settling himself on the couch and opening his beer. "And she's out with Caroline at the Warehouse tonight."

"Oh whatever." He scoffed. "And you let Caroline go to the Warehouse by herself? You realize she's known for being the chief of police's daughter – not your girlfriend."

Klaus gestured dismissively with his hand. "She'll be fine." Damon rolled his eyes, sitting down next to his friend on the sofa. "Come on Damon. I know you feel like shit."

"I don't feel like shit."

"Are you seriously going to argue everything I say?" Klaus moaned. "Remember when I broke up with Caroline because I felt guilty that I was putting myself between her and her family; you, being the stubborn dick that you are, made me go make it up with her." He raised his beer bottle in salute. "Just returning the favor my friend, just returning the favor."

"I'm sorry, did you almost get Caroline killed?"

"Get over that. The Vengefuls want her dead, being with you will make her safer if it makes her anything."

"Okay, examples. Day one, she was with me, a car hits her. Few days later, we're in L.A, and you don't even _want_ to know what almost happened." Damon frowned, ranting as he bitterly listed everything that had happened. Next, she's been knocked out in the clubhouse grounds and left to rot on a back road. Then, she gets shot, in my house, and is on the verge of death for almost three days."

Klaus scoffed, shaking his head. "Day one, you took her home and looked after her. Whatever nearly happened in L.A, didn't happen because you stopped it, right?" he questioned. Damon nodded reluctantly. "Next, she was knocked out in the clubhouse, that was hardly your fault – it was the Vengefuls and we know _why_ now. When she was shot, it was coincidence it was in you house. Not everything is on you, Damon."

"If she hadn't been out with me that car wouldn't have hit her. If she hadn't been in L.A, nothing would have happened. If I hadn't taken her out, she wouldn't have been alone in the garage. She wouldn't have been shot if she'd stayed at the clubhouse!"

"Okay, stop." Klaus said exasperated. "Somehow, Elena has managed to get inside that pretty little head of yours and now you think she's better of without you." He nearly bellowed, trying to make his friend see sense. "Now, she's out at the Warehouse instead of at home doing whatever the hell it is you two do!"

"Klaus-" Damon started to say but Klaus quickly cut him off.

"Caroline says she pissed. She's got no idea what she did that made you stop it. Don't you get it? If anything she's the one who was putting _you_ in more danger."

"Shut up!" Damon yelled at his friend. "I'll fucking talk to her!" Klaus sat back smugly in the leather sofa, drinking his beer with a slick smirk on his face. "That's my beer you're drinking." He told him dryly.

"You'll thank me for drinking your beer when you figure out that I'm the ultimate wingman."

Damon stood up irritably and slid on his coat. "Wingman? Who even says that anymore?" he griped continuously and he opened his front door, pointing for Klaus to get out. "Come on, I'm not hauling Caroline's drunken ass back to your place: you get your girl; I'll get mine."

* * *

"Caroline-e-e-e-e-e!" Elena cried happily, throwing her arms around the bubbly blonde. "I said _one_ drink." She said, frowning slightly. "And now I've lost count."

Caroline squealed and threw her arms around Tyler's neck, smoothing his hair down absentmindedly. "Blame this one." She giggled, "He made us."

Matt chuckled and unwound Caroline's arms from around Tyler's neck. "Leave the poor guy alone Care." He scolded lightly, sitting back down at the booth they had claimed at the Warehouse. "How you doing?" he asked Elena concerned. "I heard you were in the hospital."

"Oh yeah." She said nodding enthusiastically, drinking another gulp of her drink. "I was shot. It was dead dramatic." She slurred drunkenly.

Matt's eyes bugged out of his head and he took her drink away from her. "Jesus, Elena, you shouldn't be drinking. When?"

Elena shrugged, massaging her temples. She was starting to sober up and she was not enjoying it one bit. "Eleven days ago." She said hesitantly after a lingering silence.

Matt's eyes stared at her in wonder. "Are you okay?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I don't _actually_ know what happened because Damon's a _dick…_"

"Woh-oh." Caroline said pacifyingly, patting Elena's head. "Ignore her. Damon's just not told her anything about anything that's going on." Elena furrowed her brow, looking confusedly at Caroline. Maybe _she_ was the drunk one. When did she become the drunken one? She was _never_ the drunk one. She carried on massaging her temples, determinedly clinging onto the remains of her buzz. She was not looking forward to coming down. "Yeah, so no one has told her anything, and that's dead unfair don't you think?" Caroline said seductively, winding a strand of hair around her finger as she stared at Tyler.

"Oh yeah." He coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat. "We figured Damon would tell you…" Tyler exchanged an uncomfortable look with Matt, and then began rotating the glass he was holding.

"Yeah, but Damon's a dick-" Elena said, hiccupping violently, sending shooting pains through her chest, sobering her up dramatically in the time it took her to blink. "Ow." She winced, rubbing the sore spot on her ribs.

"You okay?" Caroline asked quietly, mutely freaking out. "This was such a stupid idea. You literally just got out this morning…" Caroline broke off, looking like she was about to cry.

"No, it was a good idea." Elena reassured her, rubbing her shoulder. "It doesn't even hurt anymore." She admitted, semi-truthfully. There was still a dull hurt nestling in her chest, but somehow, it didn't seem related to a gun.

Matt was watching her carefully; his knowing blue eyes studying every inch of her face. It wasn't until Caroline dragged Tyler up to dance to seduce more information out of him; she was exceptionally talented on that front; that he asked her what was wrong.

"You should head back." Matt told her softly. "Caroline's been drinking so she hasn't noticed but you look miserable."

"I'm not miserable!" she protested, absently rubbing the aching spot by her neck.

"Those still hurt don't they?" He asked her quietly.

Elena shrugged, leaning her face in her hands. "Yeah." She admitted softly. "A little bit."

"Come on 'Lena, quit acting drunk and just do what you want."

Elena snorted, laughing lightly. "Do what I want?" she echoed grinning. She held out her hand expectantly. "I want to dance!"

Matt shook his head exasperated, a bright smile on his lips as he took her waiting hand and led her onto the dance floor, letting him twirl her around to the pounding beats. "One day I'll figure you out, Elena Gilbert." Matt promised her light-heartedly.

"I doubt it." She told him coyly, breaking away from the mass of jostling bodies and fighting her way back to the booth. She glanced around, catching sight of Caroline drunkenly draping her arms around Klaus, her beam a mile wide. She couldn't help but let a small smile creep onto her face at the look Klaus was giving her; he was irritated beyond belief, he was going to give her an earful when she woke up, but he was still looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and to him, she probably was. She turned back to Matt, slyly stealing his beer off of him. "One drink?" she pleaded taking a sip anyway.

Matt shook his head defeated. "Whatever I say isn't going to stop you, is it?"

She took a drink, leaving the neck of the bottle poised teasingly between her teeth as she shook her head. "Nah." She smiled, an easy smile slipping through her lips. "In the end of it all, you can say what you like, but it's not going to make a difference when it comes down to it." She told the blond slightly bitterly.

"Never pegged you for a pessimist Elena." A familiar voice said. She looked up briefly to see Damon smoothly sliding into the booth next to her. "Smart." He snorted. "It's not like you're on pain meds or anything." He took the bottle away from her and shoved it into the arms of a passing waiter.

"Oh the joys." Elena grumbled, rolling her eyes widely. "It's Damon." She said, putting as much sarcasm into her excited tone as possible. "Hey Matt, did you know that Damon is just the source off _all_ my troubles?"

Damon groaned, resting an arm against the back of the booth. "We're leaving, you idiot." He said, hoisting her up gently by the arm, slightly surprised when she stood up willingly.

"Hey man, you can't force her to…" Matt protested weakly, gesturing at her.

"Pain meds and alcohol don't mix." He said patiently. "If she passes out here no one thinks twice and she dies; so I'm taking her home."

"Oh get over it." Elena said loudly, pulling her arms free of Damon's grip. "Why are you even here?"

"I need to talk to you." He muttered, avoiding eye contact with her.

Elena rolled her eyes and crossed her arms stubbornly. "Let me rephrase that, why are you here because apparently you being seen with me if going to put me in just _so_ much danger?" she scowled, her brown eyes a turmoil of hurt and anger and sadness.

"I'm just going to-" Matt cleared his throat awkwardly, standing up and edging around the couple. "Yeah, bye."

"Come on, we're leaving." Damon said dismissively.

"Why do you _care_?" Elena said blankly.

"Just please." Damon sighed, hesitantly cupping her cheeks for just a moment. "I'll explain okay? Just let me take you home."

Elena sighed and she knew if any of her girlfriends were here right now they'd be yelling at her to tell him where to shove his explanation, but they weren't here and she was torn between the desperation in his voice and the worn, tired look in his gaze. She closed her eyes for a moment and nodded once, sliding on her jacket and walking past him, her hips swaying temptingly to the beat. Damon allowed himself a moment to appreciate just how gorgeous Elena truly was; with her long brown hair cascading down her back in loose waves and those endless legs looking even longer in the black heels she was wearing. He shook himself mentally, walking faster to catch up to him, a hand pressed gently on the small of her back.

They got outside and Elena paused, turning around slightly so he saw most of her face, just a glimmer of it hidden by the shadows. "I was right you know." She pointed out, a soft edge to her tone. He looked up, meeting her gaze with a silent question. She shrugged absently, opening the door of his car and sliding inside, not even looking his way until he was in the driver's seat. She blinked, her wide brown eyes looking like endless pits of emotions, where no one feeling was tangible amongst the host of others. She broke his gaze, looking resignedly out of the window.

She shrugged again, just a tiny imperceptible movement of her shoulders. "You left."


	16. Moonlight

They drove in silence after that, each of them watching the lights whip past. In the last month they'd gone through every emotion conceivable, and now they were here; trapped in an endless silence full of undeclared words. In the darkness of the car, Elena was silent, waiting for an explanation; waiting for a reason as to why. Damon kept his mind on the road, one hand draped lightly over the steering wheel as his glacial eyes reflecting the street lamps. He drove quietly, the gentle hum of the engine creating a quiet melody in the silent night. Damon pulled into a side road, handling the old car with the same expertise as his bike. Elena studied him blatantly. The curve of his shoulder in his jacket, the strong line of his jaw with the faint shadow of stubble across it, the sharp profile, and those eyes, blue lighting amongst the storm. He pulled on the gearshift, sending the car to a smooth stop outside a quiet building.

It was appealing; in it's own way, the small building. With its sharp corners and large bay windows on the corners, it gave the street a warm glow from the light inside, dusting the grey concrete a soft yellow. It had a twisting gravel path, edged with plants snaking around the edge of the house, leading into the real Phoenix with it's dusty sand and haunting waving cacti washed in the dull radiance of the moon, making everything magical, mysterious and alluring.

Damon got out of the car, closing the powder blue door with a gentle thud, as if the silence of the night was too smooth for him to shatter. Elena sighed, allowing herself a moment of solitude in the car alone, staring blankly out of the windscreen. Her eyes panned unseeingly over the scene before her, catching on Damon's unblinking gaze as he stood leaning against a wall, watching her with an unfathomable expression. She got out of the car in one swift second, closing the door gently like he had done. She walked up to him, still standing smaller than him, even in her heels. He looked at her sadly; his normal emotive eyes were devoid of the innovative beauty they normally held.

He unlocked the door and opened it for her, holding it ajar as she walked in, staring around the lobby in awe.

"This place is nice." She noted quietly, breaking the silence like glass.

Damon cracked a smile, his blue eyes creeping back to life. He gestured his backwards towards the elevator. He held his hand out to her slightly. "I wanna show you something."

She paused for a moment, her eyes flickering between his outstretched hand and his tempting half-smile. She sighed, linking his fingers through hers reluctantly, letting him tug her backwards into the lift, causing her to stumble slightly, letting her laughter ring out through the small space. Damon looked at her softly, leaning against the mirrored wall of the elevator. As her laughter died on her lips, the tension crept back in, grasping ahold of them.

Thankfully, the elevator arrived at the floor Damon was going to soon, and the enclosed space of a cramped metal box was replaced with the freshness of a corridor with lots of places to run and hide when things started spiraling. Damon was smiling again by the time he reached a dark wood door with gold enamel numbers marking it as Room C18. He fished a key out of his pocket, sliding it into the lock and pushing the door wide open, revealing its secrets to her.

She burst out laughing as she wandered into the wide, empty room. It had dark wood flooring with cream walls, inserted with panels of dark wood and red brick. It was wide, and open, creating an echoing sense of vacancy. She chuckled, whirling around to face Damon. "An empty apartment?" she asked skeptically, leaning against a pillar near the untouched kitchen.

Damon grinned at her, a pale imitation of the one she'd seen earlier. "Catch." He said suddenly, throwing the key in her direction. "_Your _empty apartment." He told her, gesturing widely into the room. Elena looked around, grinning widely, taking in the large double bed through an archway with sliding doors and the marble kitchen. Damon cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's kind of empty." He shrugged apologetically.

"It's fine." She said simply, brushing away his statement.

A prolonged silence grew between them. It was a long time before she looked up, meeting the blue gaze that had been trained on her the whole time.

"I know you want to say something." Damon told her quietly, settling himself down on the floor. He locked his arms around his legs, with his knees splaying out to rest against his elbows as his head fell back against the wall. "So say it."

"Why?" she asked in a small, steady voice. She focused on him with unforgiving eyes.

"Why what?" he said calmly, his icy stare never leaving her eyes.

"Why are you here? Why did you take me away from the club? Why-?" she began, questions slipping out of her mouth as soon as she let them.

"Because I want to talk to you." Damon answered her simply, cutting her off. "And come on 'Lena," he said, almost playfully as the familiar name rolled off his lips. "You were drinking, and you're _supposed_ to be on pain medication."

"I'm not on pain meds." She told him bluntly, the throbbing in her chest creeping back into the forefront of her mind. "I forgot them at the hospital, ergo, the next most effective pain medication."

Damon sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a little box of pills. "I know." He chucked them at her gently, a sad look in his eyes. "They called me to pick them up."

Elena sighed, setting the pills down on the empty kitchen counter. "So why did you make me leave?"

"Because I want to talk to you." He said shortly, lending no further explanation. Elena groaned and hoisted herself up onto the counter, hissing as pain sliced through her. Damon was up and beside her quicker than she would have thought. "You okay?" he asked softly, his hand resting ever so gently against her arm. Elena drew back, surprised by his concern.

She nodded slowly, absent-mindedly massaging her shoulder. While her wounds were only flesh wounds as she'd gathered from her doctors, and her stay in hospital extremely short, the pain of the bullets still hurt her, sending agony coursing through her veins in the worst cases, and a slight throbbing at best. "You care now?" she asked cuttingly.

Damon sighed and leant over the counter, pressing his hands into his face. "Of course I care, I never said I didn't."

"No, but you left." She said reasonably. "Which was a crappy thing to do, Damon."

"I get that okay?" he said tiredly. "I just fucking left you there, and that was a shit thing to do, but I swear to god, if you start on me too I won't be able to take it."

"I think I can start on you if I want." She muttered bitterly. "I'm the only one who should be starting on you."

Damon scoffed, a noise so full of contempt and bitterness she almost didn't recognize him. "You're the only one who actually matters 'Lena." He said softly, looking into her eyes.

Elena looked away, gazing out the large bay windows onto the desert. The light of the moon seemed to wash everything, from the rocks to the dunes to his striking eyes, in a mystical glow, making the world seem more beautiful. "Why did you leave?" she asked, finally looking at him again. "You said you'd explain."

Damon groaned, rubbing his face anxiously. "I can't explain it." He said slowly, looking away from her. "You're just always there, and you're always hurt, and it's always _my_ fault. I just wanted to stop it."

Elena tentatively reached out with one finger, placing it on his chin and drawing his face around to look at her. "I'm not _always_ hurt." She told him, unsure of anything else to say.

Damon pulled away from her grip and looking at his hands as he straightened up and ran his fingers restlessly through his hair. "You've been here a month, Lay, how many times have you been hurt?"

Elena scowled at him. "Considering the amount of people who want me dead, I think it's a relatively low number." She said weakly, looking at him sadly.

"Do you know how many Vengefuls there are based officially in Phoenix?" he asked emptily, refusing to meet her eyes. She shook her head once, dreading the answer. "None." He told her bitterly. "The Vengefuls don't have a chapter here anymore. They moved to Vegas, L.A, San Francisco."

"I know." Elena said, closing her eyes for a moment. "They were always in L.A."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Elena shrugged, staring at a blank patch of cream wall illuminated by the moonlight. "They weren't after me."

"So why did you avoid them?" Damon probed gently. This time he reached out and cupped her cheek, forcing him to look at him.

"Because I knew who they were." She whispered, her eyes telling a different story than what they had before. "All they had to do was hear my name and I knew it'd be over."

"You were scared." He stated, drawing back in surprise. Elena was one of the strongest people he'd even encountered. She took the bull by the horns and took whatever life threw at her. She always had lightness in her eyes and a ring of genuineness in her laugh, that when he was with her, he couldn't help but smile too. Elena looked down at her lap. He tilted her chin again, meeting her warm, chocolate eyes and seeing beneath the strength that lay there, to the fear that rested behind it. "It's good to be scared." He told her sincerely. "Only fools have no fear."

Elena cocked her head to the side. "Are you scared?" she asked, her question so simple; yet one thousand different people could interpret it one thousand different ways.

He looked up ay her, raw honesty in his eyes and he answered her question in the simplest way he could. "Petrified." He admitted, running his hands through the ends of her hair. One by one, the walls that had sprung up between them were being broken down.

Elena looked at him, those brown eyes holding all the answers to questions he only had to ask. She didn't ask him what he was scared off, and he didn't elaborate. "I don't blame you." She told him after a long silence.

He looked up at her in surprise. "I know you don't," he said tiredly.

"Damon." She said exasperated, grabbing his face with both hand to force him to look at her, and really look at her. "You think you're only putting me in danger?" she asked rhetorically, holding his cheeks between her palms. "You're the only one keeping me _together_."

Damon placed his hands on the counter, tensing and looking down at the marble patterns. "Don't say that." He whispered. "I'm not good for you."

"Then be my _friend,_ Damon." She said steadily. "I never asked you for anything more and you ran screaming the second you couldn't handle this." She snapped, a hard edge to her voice as she motioned between their two bodies.

"I told you," he said, turning his head and looking at her again. "I'm scared, Elena. I'm fucking _petrified_." He said, running his hands through his hair and pushing off the counter; stalking across the apartment in hectic circles. "I don't want those expectations put on me. I don't want people to come to _me_ when you get hurt and ask me why I let that happen."

Elena pushed off the counter, trying to ignore the pain as it wracked her body. She walked over to him, turning his face around to meet hers and dropping her hands to her side. "It's not your job to keep me safe." She whispered. "I don't need you to protect me."

"God Elena." He said, rolling his eyes exasperated. "People expect me to keep you safe. I'm _supposed_ to keep you safe."

"You're not supposed to do anything!" she said loudly, walking away from him throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. "I'm not some pathetic little girl who can't look after herself! I don't need you to spend your days acting like my bodyguard!"

"Did it ever," Damon started to say in a low voice, turning around to look at her. "Occur to you that I _want_ to keep you safe– out of free choice on my part? That I don't like you seeing you on the verge of death because of something I could have stopped? That if anything happens to you while you're with me, I don't want to deal with the _guilt_?"

"You don't have to do anything! You're not some glorified protector of a someone who can't look after herself!" she yelled, anger boiling through her veins. "I got hurt and you couldn't stop it! Deal with it!"

"I could have stopped it Elena!" he shouted back.

"How?" she snorted sarcastically, folding her hands over her chest. "By jumping in front of those bullets? No, Damon, because then _you_ would be hurt, and that would be my fault."

"How come you could blame yourself, but I can't blame me?"

"Because someone shot me." She said simply. "And yeah, it sucked, but I'm alive. So who cares if you couldn't stop it?"

"I care, Elena!" he said, moving towards her with wide eyes. Gesturing to himself he exploded, "I care, okay? I care that I couldn't stop my _brother_ shooting you."

Elena stopped dead in her tracks, staring at Damon in shock. "Stefan shot me? I didn't know that."

"No one knows that." He told her curtly. "He was aiming for me and at the last second decided to change targets and fire a bullet into you."

"Nice." She muttered bitterly, trying to ignore the fact that the nice guy who had made her toast had shot her. Whoever that nice guy had been, he certainly didn't exist anymore. She leant her back against the counter, looking at him with a strange expression on her face.

"He shot you instead of me." Damon said in a quiet voice. "I should have told you to run."

Elena looked up at him quickly. "I did run." She told him carefully. "But then I heard a gun."

Damon's eyes locked on to hers and he walked over to her, standing directly in front of her. Elena found herself transfixed on the azure orbs before her eyes.

"You came back?" he echoed, fixing his unblinking gaze on her. He ran his hands through his hair and looked away from her. "Why did you come back?"

"I thought someone shot you." She told him, her voice as strong and steady as it always was.

"Well they didn't," he snapped regretfully. "They shot you."

Elena sighed and looked away, training her vision on the starless sky. "Do you think I don't know that?" she asked incredulously. "Do you think-?" She broke off abruptly shaking her head in disbelief. She turned on him, her eyes tired and worn and beaten. "Why are you here, Damon?" she said, her voice wearing thin.

Damon looked at her, hesitantly reaching out to touch her cheek to stroke a strand of hair away from her face. "I shouldn't have left."

* * *

_**A/N: Updates will be getting shorter from now on, and probably more frequent. It's a hell of a lot easier writing a chapter maybe 2,000 words or so rather that trying to link together 4/5,000 words in a way that flows. So with shorter chapters, don't think I'm losing interest. I love this story too much to let it go.**_


	17. Open Hearts

_**A/N: Smut alert... uhoh.**_

* * *

Elena looked up at him in doubt. "Then why did you?" she asked him in a small voice.

Damon grimaced and looked away. "I was scared." He admitted after a long silence. "I-" he broke off, furrowing his brows together. "There's something about you. The way I am around you; the way other people notice it." he met her eyes again, revealing a deep, hidden pool of emotions that were previously hidden by their beauty. "It scares me that you almost died, and then when your doctor told me you wouldn't make it, god, I was scared Elena. I was so fucking _scared_. I still am." He confessed, words tumbling out of his mouth in the midst of the night. "You just made me feel so helpless. I didn't care if you didn't blame me, but it was my _fault_." Elena opened her mouth to protest so he quickly continued. "I didn't care at first. I thought everything would calm down and we'd be okay. Elena, you came so close to dying and I couldn't handle it. I didn't ever want to feel that helpless, that _useless_ ever again. "

He took a deep shaky breath, reeling from the hidden truths he'd unleashed on her. "I'm just trying to say that I'm sorry." He whispered, leaning her forehead against hers. "Forgive me." Elena shook her head firmly; her eyes still as strong and beautiful as they had been when he'd first seen them.

"No." she whispered, so quiet it was barely more than a breath escaping her lips.

He moved his lips so they were resting near her ear, brushing across the skin there as he spoke. "Forgive me." He breathed, sending goose bump across her neck.

"Damon," she whispered, her breath coming faster and faster as she lost herself in his eyes. "Don't."

Damon pressed a soft kiss to her ear, trailing his way along her jawline until he lingered over her lips. "Why not?"

She titled her chin up slightly, her lips hovering over his. "In case you leave again." She whispered, sending electricity shooting over Damon's body as her lips moved, so close to his.

"Elena." Damon murmured, running his hands through her hair, letting the ends fall through his fingers.

Elena shook her head, half way defiance, and half way surrender. Damon moved his head down, capturing her lips, giving her her sweet apology with just one touch. She pulled away by just a fraction, staring up into his eyes with doubt, searching for something behind his blue gaze. He traced the lines of her face from her temples to her chin, tilting it so he could kiss her again. This time she came to life beneath him; moving her lips against his as her hands wound their way around his neck, locking his body to her. He lifted her up, gently placing her on the counter, maneuvering himself between her legs as he trailed his lips down her neck, dipping between the valley of her breasts. Her legs locked around his hips as she pulled his face to meet hers, claiming his lips with bruising force.

In that moment nothing mattered besides her. She was all he could focus on; her one all-consuming force of addiction, setting him on a path that would ultimately end in tragedy. She peppered kisses along his jaw, teasing his neck with her tongue and her teeth. He pushed her backward, lying her flat against the cold counter as he hovered over her, kissing down her neck and lightly biting the hollow of her throat, his hands palmed up her toned stomach, sending eruptions of desire all over her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, shivering as his teeth made contact with her neck, followed by the lightest of kisses.

Damon pulled her up, fast as lighting, claiming her mouth again as he held her thighs, holding her tightly to him; keeping her elevated as she kissed him. He stumbled backward, hitting a wall, dropping Elena's legs and wrapping his strong arms around her waist, silencing her moans with his addicting mouth as his body pressed against her. Her hands trailed down his neck, grasping the lapels of his leather jacket, spinning him around and forcing him backwards. He caught her around her waist as he staggered backwards, stubbornly never stopping with his kisses. His knees hit the bed with a sudden force that sent him tumbling back, pulling her down on top of him.

Elena kissed him fiercely, trailing her nails down his chest, feeling his taut muscles through the thin t-shirt he was wearing. He rolled them over; kissing down her neck, grazing his hands up her sides to lifted her shirt up. He kissed her stomach, moving steadily upwards, inching her shirt higher little by little as he trailed his way painfully slowly over her body. She arched her back, stretching her hands above her head as he pulled the offending item off of her, discarding it somewhere on the floor. His smooth hands brushed up her body as he pressed his lips over her breasts, teasing her with his tongue.

She groaned in frustration, threading his lips through his hair and kissing him fervently, pushing his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. She yanked off his t-shirt with a swift movement, gasping in shock as Damon pulled her up, pinning her tightly to him as he help her in his arms, kissing her so feverishly, her world nearly setting alight. She wound her arms around his neck, leaving his face pressed against her skin, trailing burning down her body. Pushing her gently to the mattress, he eased off her jeans and kissed his way over her stomach; across her hipbones; along the inside of her thighs. When his mouth met hers again, moving with a force near desperate, she gasped, feeling his hands grazing over her sensitive skin, driving her higher and higher teasing her with his skillful hands.

She forced his jeans down his legs, hissing as he unsnapped her bra and tortured her with his mouth, latching onto her sensitive skin with abandon and stubborn desire. Her hands threaded in his hair, pulling him up towards her and rolling them over so she sat atop of him. She trailed her way down his hard muscles, slowly ridding him on his boxers, coyly tracing her lips over him. He lost patience, pushing him off of her and kissing her fiercely. His hands massaged the smooth skin of her ribs as he kissed the damaged skin by her collarbone ever so gently, and pressing a lingering kiss over the wound on her ribs. He left a hot trail down her stomach, easing off the last remnants of her clothing, bringing her closer and closer as he teased her with his talented tongue and addictive lips; sending her hurtling over the edge in a fierce rush of desire and leaving her trembling against the cool sheets.

He kissed her mouth fiercely, finally sliding into her, groaning in pleasure, letting his head fall against her neck. She gasped, clawing at his back as he moved, rocking into her with the ease of a man who knew what he was doing. He moaned, gasping her name and whispering sweet words into her ear as they reached the edge together, falling, and lying warm, tried and content, amongst the white sheets in each other's sweat soaked arms.

"Do you forgive me?" Damon murmured, his lips moving against the skin behind her ear sometime later in the early hours of the morning. She rolled over, lying on top of him, leaning her head against his chest. His hand reached up to slowly stroke her hair, dropping a kiss onto the crown of her head as his hands wound around her t-shirt clad back. She nodded slightly against his sweat-slick skin, pressing her lips to his muscles.

"Yeah." She whispered, letting her eyes drop shut as she fell asleep to the sound of his heart beating through his skin while the sun began to rise.

* * *

"Grayson." Giuseppe asked suddenly. "Have you talked to Elena?"

Grayson looked up from his computer screen. "No." he admitted sheepishly. "I'll go see her later, I've been too busy trying to figure out this case since Damon decided to drop of the face off the earth." He snapped bitterly, running a weary hand along his jaw, feeling the rough stubble there.

Giuseppe rolled his eyes, leaning back on the soft leather chair and studying his friend intently. "You two could _attempt_ to work together."

"I've known Damon since he was born, we were _fine_ working together until he started hitting on my daughter." Grayson pointed out bluntly, his eyes never leaving his computer screen. He sighed loudly. "There's _no_ record of the shooting. None. I still can't crack the archive." He groaned, leaning his head in his hands.

"Oh get over it." Giuseppe said tiredly. "Shouldn't you be more protective of Damon? What if Elena breaks his heart?"

"What makes you say that?" Grayson said sharply, his brown eyes locking on Giuseppe's.

Giuseppe looked up regretfully. "I didn't mean anything by it Gray." He said, trying to brush it off.

"Why would you say that?" Grayson repeated in a low voice.

Giuseppe looked at him with sad eyes, taking in the lines etched too deep for the man's face. "Because Miranda broke yours."

Grayson looked away, his mouth set in a grim line. "Call Ric, I can't crack the archives." He said bluntly.

Sighing quietly, Giuseppe grabbed his phone, dialing Alaric's number. "No answer." He said, putting the phone back down. "Why are you so desperate to get into the archives? That's all old cases"

"Archives, database," he replied vaguely, making a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Same thing."

"Not really Gray." Giuseppe told him.

"Someone shot my daughter." He growled, attacking the keyboard with a renewed fervor. "I want answers since Damon won't supply."

"Have you even _asked_ Damon?" Giuseppe asked simply, scrutinizing his friend carefully.

"No point. Your son _refuses_ to give answers."

Giuseppe looked up for a moment, looking as if a light bulb just clicked in his head. He stood up, walking swiftly over to Grayson, commandeering the computer form him. "Check the record for Washington college open days for this month." He ordered, resting his hand on the wooden desk, his old eyes scanning the computer screen. He growled, grabbing the office phone and dialing a number agitatedly.

"Who you calling?" Grayson questioned, staring staggered at Giuseppe.

He cursed violently and began pacing over the office, clasping his hands behind his head. "Stefan's missing."

Grayson's eyes widened for a moment, before they clouded with doubt. "Is that relevant?"

"It's Sunday." Giuseppe said, stretching to take Grayson's phone, scrolling through recent numbers. "He said he was in Washington, looking at open days." Grayson looked at dubiously. "He was supposed to be back Thursday. There _are_ no open days in Washington this month Gray." He explained exasperated. "Stefan going missing right now it _not_ good."

"Why have you got my phone?" Grayson asked apprehensively, not sure of how to reply.

Giuseppe looked up, eyeing Grayson with disbelief. "You need access to police archives?" he clarified, pressing a number and holding the phone to his ear. Grayson nodded, looking warily at his life-long friend. Giuseppe sighed, putting the call on speaker and placing it on the worn oak desk.

"Phoenix P.D, how can I help you?" Came a helpful voice through the line.

Giuseppe leant on the desk with both hands, hanging his head wearily. "John Somers; Investigations."

* * *

Damon awoke blearily to the sound of his phone vibrating in his jeans pocket across the room. He rolled out of bed, landing with a thump on the wooden flooring, looking around dazed as he tried to get his bearings. He stretched, reaching for his jeans and sliding them on. Taking his iPhone out of the pocket, he groaned in dismay as he saw several large cracks marring the previously complete screen. That was the last time he left his phone in his jeans and then chucked them halfway across a room.

"Hey man." He whispered, rubbing his face with one hand as he leant against the wall with his knees bent.

"Why are you whispering?" Klaus said suspiciously. "Mate, you didn't." he crowed gleefully, pausing, taking in Damon's silence. "You totally _did_-"

"Not. A. Word." Damon hissed quietly, standing up and padding out of the bedroom, pulling the sliding wood-panel doors halfway shut over the archway. "What the hell do you want? Do you _know_ what time it is?"

"Damon." Klaus said. Damon could imagine the smirk spreading across his face. "My advice is fucking _awesome_."

"I swear to god Klaus, if you don't tell me why you dragged me out of bed today of all days, I _will_ kill you." He threatened as quietly as possible.

Klaus went silent on the other end of the line. "Ric found Stefan."

"Right now?" Damon cursed, glancing back through the empty apartment to when Elena was sleeping. "_Seriously_?"

"Sorry mate." Klaus replied remorsefully. "Call me when you're apartment."

"Does this really have to be right now?" Damon asked, scowled deeply.

"Stefan's been moving about like crazy, Damon. Either we get him today or we lose him."

Damon made an agonized face as he turned around and looked at Elena again, regret seeping into his features. "I'll be there soon."

He hung up abruptly, slipping his phone in his jeans pocket and padding across to the archway and gently pulling back the sliding door and wandering over to the bed, climbing onto it and kissing Elena's neck. "Hey." She murmured, rolling over and stretching her arms above her head. Damon hovered over her, a hand on either side of her head and he leant in and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. Elena glanced down at him, her eyes doubtful. "You better not be telling me you're leaving."

"Ric found Stefan." He told her, stroking her cheek gently. "He's dropped off the map since he shot you Lay, I need answers."

Elena studied him carefully, pushing herself up; her face tensing as she used her damaged shoulder. Damon kissed her shoulder softly, leaning his head there. "Does it hurt?"

Elena shrugged with one shoulder. "A bit." She told him, cupping his cheek with one hand and bringing his lips in to meet hers.

Damon pulled away regretfully, brushing her hair away from her face. "I'll be back in a little while." He told her quietly, and with one last remaining kiss, he disappeared out of the door.

* * *

_**A/N: Feels weird updating such a short chapter on this fic. How's the shorter chapters working out? You want the longer ones back?**_

_**I just want to say thank you to every single person who has reviewed, followed, favourites, read this story. It means the world and more, and I love you all for doing that.**_

**_And to vivianafrancesca; I know you wanted him to suffer, but his pretty eyes just made me put him back with Elena. ;)_**


	18. Sleepy Kisses

Damon scowled as he dialed his friend's number. Holding his cracked phone to his ear, he waited impatiently for Klaus to pick up.

"'Lo?" Klaus' hoarse voice mumbled through the phone.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Damon snapped irritably. "You went back to _sleep_?" he accused bitterly. "I could have had at _least_ another hour."

Klaus yawned loudly, and Damon could hear rustling on the other end of the phone and a faint murmur from Caroline. "I assumed you'd still be busy with your girl." He told him pacifyingly, sounding rather regretful. Damon snorted mentally, Klaus was _lucky_ to be getting away from an extremely hung over Caroline. "I'm on my way."

Damon sighed, groaning in consent before hanging up, pressing the screen slightly harder than necessary. He sat down, rolling his head back against the soft leather sofas in his apartment, closing his eyes for a moment. He was exhausted; he was _not_ a morning person. Mornings were meant for sleeping in and slouching lazily about his apartment or nursing a hangover, depending on how good his previous night had been. Opening his eyes dejectedly, he yawned loudly, wanting nothing more than to drive back to Elena's empty apartment and stay asleep for several more hours. He resisted the urge to call her just to wake her up and have her yell at him; she'd been through hell, he'd give it a week or so before he started wrecking her sleeping pattern again. An absent smile crept unwillingly onto his face. He shook his head at his own ridiculousness, Damon Salvatore was not the kind of man to want to spend his Sunday mornings curled up in bed cuddling; he usually went about his Sundays largely hung over and avoiding anything that resembled work. Tracking down his Vengeful brother wasn't exactly high on the list of things he'd thought he'd ever do. He rolled over, folding his arms under a cushion and buried his face in the soft fabric. His yawn was largely muffled, his shoulder cracking painfully as he stretched. Damon slowly let his many sleepless nights catch up to him, and his eyes drifted shut, returning him to a world of lazy Sundays and sleepy kisses.

* * *

Giuseppe wandered through the clubhouse, running his hand over his weary face. "How long were you and John on the phone for?" he queried loudly, rousing Grayson from his restless sleep on the couch. Grayson's head shot up, and he provided an almost comical sight with his befuddled expression and bleary eyes. Grayson made a questioning noise, rubbing his face to wake himself up. "How long were you and John talking for?" Giuseppe repeated, slightly impatiently.

Grayson scowled and stood up, walking around the large office to wake him up. "All night, on and off. He's got _nothing_." He snapped restlessly, waving his arms around exaggeratedly. The other man couldn't help but smile. For someone who could pull a trigger in the space of a heartbeat; ending a life by his own hand, he was certainly fretting rather amusingly. "There's nothing." He stressed, groaning loudly.

"Nothing? Not even on the shooting?" Giuseppe asked incredulously. "Not on Stefan, or Elena or anyone?"

"Nope." Grayson said, popping the 'p' obnoxiously, riling Giuseppe up, he had a certain hatred for that sound; it came from raising Damon Salvatore as his son. "Zilch. _Zéro_. Nada."

"You're useless." Giuseppe griped, scowling at his friend.

"Hey!" Grayson said defensively. "You're the one who's had nearly a fortnight to talk to Damon and get real, solid answers and you _haven't_."

Giuseppe rolled his eyes disbelievingly. "You've got to be kidding me. He was a mess. He barely slept; he couldn't form coherent sentences, Gray."

"So go find him _now_." Grayson said dryly, staring down his friend with a persistent gaze. "I know you want answers."

Giuseppe scowled and stood up, letting a small smile slip through his façade. "Fine. I'll go question my son; you go question your daughter. We'll probably end up at the same place." He winked slyly, enjoying his friend's discomfort immensely.

Grayson groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I do not need that image in my head!" he yelled, shuddering disgustedly as a look of horror passed over his features.

"Be realistic Gray." He scoffed smirking amusedly. "They haven't spent a night apart as far as I know, why start now?"

"Giuseppe." he began through gritted teeth. Giuseppe grinned widely, grabbing his car keys from his desk and shoving them into his pocket.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." He said dismissively, waking towards the door. Grayson followed him, fishing in his pockets for a set of keys. "I'll call you if I find him."

Grayson raised an eyebrow, steadily looking at his friend. "You make it seem like you won't find him." Giuseppe shrugged, opening his car door and sliding inside.

Just as he reached to close his door, he looked up, his eyes knowing, a depth of knowledge deeper than the ocean itself. "I won't find him if he doesn't want to be found."

* * *

"Alaric!" Giuseppe bellowed, pounding loudly on his old friends door. "Wake the hell up!" he thumped his fist on the door handle. Giuseppe Salvatore was not a patient man; he could wait if the occasion desperately called for it but if there was time to wait on something, was it really worth a single moment of his time?

Ric stumbled to the door, his shadowed figure visible through the fogged glass. He opened the door reluctantly, staring at Giuseppe murderously. "Do your family have an unhealthy obsession with waking me up?" he growled, retreating back into his home, motioning for his boss to follow.

Giuseppe smirked, folding his arms and shaking his head at Ric. He was sitting on his worn leather couch, rubbing his eyes in a half-hearted bid to wake himself up. "Where's Damon?" he asked sharply, his ice blue eagle eyes boring into Ric's.

"No idea." He replied, immediately seeming more awake; the fading remnants of sleep faded from his eyes as he met Giuseppe's eyes steadily.

"Don't play dumb, Ric." Giuseppe sighed exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in the hair. "You know everything that has ever happened. Literally. You know out history; you know the Vengeful Souls' history, hell, you even know the Rebels' history!"

"The Rebels?" Ric said slowly, contemplating the possibility. "That's over a dozen clubs."

"It was an _example_."

"A really bad one." He muttered under his breath, standing up and heading to the kitchen to make coffee. Talk about exaggeration; the Rebels were an alliance of thirteen clubs and over a hundred chapters. One man knowing their history, having had to work his way up through the darkest, shadiest corners of their chapters wasn't exactly going to happen. Histories were sacred; they held the dirtiest secrets of the hidden war waging between the clashing chapters.

"Alaric," Giuseppe snarled menacingly. "Tell me what you know."

Ric looked up at Giuseppe resolutely. The older man didn't intimidate him. He had faced worse than one man demanding answers to a mystery bigger than the world itself. "I know nothing." He said through gritted teeth. "I don't know where Damon is."

Giuseppe glared at his friend; the bastard was fearless. "You know. You just won't tell me. Loyal bastard."

Ric raised his coffee mug in salute, smirking slightly. "Until the very end."

"Don't be cheerful now Ric. People might get the wrong idea." Giuseppe bit out sarcastically, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"Come on 'Gus," he answered wearily, his voice penetrated with sadness. "I can't answer your questions."

"Does he know who shot her?" he asked bluntly. "Ric." He added warningly, his tone leaving no room for deflecting. "Does he know?"

Alaric nodded once; a sharp jerk of his head as he looked away. "He's going after him."

"And you won't tell me who the goddamned shooter is?"

He shook his head slowly. "You don't want to know."

Giuseppe looked up in surprise, looking intently at Ric. "Why not?"

"Let Damon tell you. He's the only one who should really." He shrugged, standing up and running a hand through his hair. "I really am sorry you didn't get your answers."

"Loyalty to your president comes before loyalty to your friends doesn't it?" Giuseppe asked ruefully, chuckling lightly.

"Not for me." Ric replied, shrugging absently. He walked with him out into the hallway of his home, opening the door for him and nodding politely. Giuseppe sighed, smirking dryly. Ric shrugged once and shut the door, leaving Giuseppe with nothing but his worries, and a whole new scope of questions.

* * *

Elena woke suddenly, blinking groggily to try and readjust her eyes to the bright light streaming into the apartment. A harsh knocking at the door had her wanting to curl up in a ball and not move for at least a year. She groaned, rolling out of bed and fumbled for her jeans, hastily dragging them up her legs and wandering over to the door, running her finger through her hair. She grabbed the door handle, pulling it open as she yawned widely.

"Dad?" she said in surprise, stepping backwards to let her father enter her apartment. "What's up?" she asked nonchalantly; her dad hadn't even attempted to call her since she got discharged from the hospital.

Grayson walked in, looking around suspiciously and glaring at his daughter's questionable attire. "No Damon?" he asked hesitantly, glancing around as if he expected him to jump out at him.

Elena raised her eyebrow and closed her door with a soft thud. She padded barefoot after Grayson and leant against the kitchen island. "He's not here."

Shaking his head, Grayson buried his face in his hands and looked at his daughter. "Are you okay?"

Elena shrugged, slightly put out. She'd been shot and this was the first effort he was making. "Been better. Are you just here to question me about Damon?" she said testily, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.

"You know where he is?" Grayson questioned sharply, his eagle eyes fixing on Elena's. Elena snorted, shaking her head and folding her arms defiantly across her chest. "I thought not."

Elena sighed loudly, rolling her eyes exasperatedly. "Why are you so pissed off at him?" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "What has he done to piss you off _so_ much that you can't even stand to be around him?"

Grayson laughed ruefully and simply gestured at the black men's shirt Elena was wearing over her jeans and her messy hair. "Why do you think, 'Lena? You're my daughter."

Elena ran her fingers through her hair awkwardly. "You know him better than you know me." She pointed out. "Shouldn't you be worried about him?"

"That's what Giuseppe thinks." Grayson said absently, scanning over Elena protectively.

Elena scoffed, chuckling lightly. "Nice." She said sarcastically. "Why are you really here, Dad?" she added softly, looking away from Grayson's gaze.

"Who shot you, Elena?" Grayson asked desperately. "What _happened_?"

Elena opened her mouth and closed it quickly. She took a slow steady breath and ran her hands through her hair once more; she wasn't even helping the state of it anymore, she was making it worse the more nervous she became. Damon had told her to lie; to say she knew nothing. She scowled to herself; she would have to yell at him later for that. The only person that truly knew what had happened that night were Damon and Stefan, and she didn't think Stefan's name was a good name to bring up right at this moment. She shrugged flippantly. "I don't know. Don't you think you would know if I knew who shot me?" she lied blatantly.

Grayson studied her intently, his eyes skimming over her irregularly fast heartbeat and the fidgeting of her hands. "No. I don't think I would."

Elena swallowed roughly and forced herself to look into Grayson's eyes. "Then I guess you'll just have to trust me."

Grayson stared her town, his honest brown eyes digging deeper trying to swim through her story. "I guess I will." He sighed finally and pushed off of the wall he had been standing on. He kissed Elena's forehead gently, and wrapped his arms around her, allowing himself one pure, untainted moment with his daughter where there were no complications, no threats. "I love you, kid." He said quietly, almost inaudibly to another's ears.

"Love you too." She muttered, hugging her father's waist. "Bye Dad."

* * *

"Wake up." Klaus demanded, shaking Damon's shoulder violently. Just because he hadn't been ready immediately didn't mean Damon could just go and crash out; the man slept like the dead at the best of times – at least the dead didn't wake up and try and kill you when you shook them awake.

Damon groaned and sat up wearily. "Why couldn't you pick me up at Elena's?"

Klaus scowled and grabbed Damon's forearm jerking him up suddenly. "This is closer."

"Why can't we do this later?" Damon moaned, wanting nothing more than to be fast asleep in an empty apartment with nothing but a bed filling up the open space. "I was _busy_." He griped, running his hands through his hair.

"You were sleeping." Klaus reminded him dryly, stalking out of his friend's apartment with confidence. "Get over it. You didn't get to have morning sex with Elena-"

"You're such a dick." Damon complained, rubbing his hand a long his stubble. It was just at the point where it was still semi-acceptable to go out in public. Klaus shot him a look and opened the car door suddenly, motioning for Damon to get inside. "This really couldn't have waited two more hours?"

"No." he replied shortly, sliding on his sunglasses and leaning back against the cool leather seats as he drove through the streets of his city. "It couldn't. Have morning sex with her tomorrow."

"Who said I slept with her?" Damon asked defensively, resting one foot on the dashboard. Klaus hit his shin sharply.

"Don't mess up my dash." He scolded seriously. Damon smirked and leant both feet on the dashboard. He clasped his hands behind his head and leant against the leather smugly. "And of course you slept with her."

"How can you know that?" he asked incredulously. "You spend too much time with Caroline." He grumbled carelessly.

"Are you saying you didn't?" Klaus probed, grinning knowingly like a Cheshire cat. Damon frowned and folded his arms across his chest, not answering. "Thought so." Klaus said smugly, turning into a side street and driving along a dust track road until he pulled up outside a shady motel. "And here, my dear friend, is your brother."

* * *

**MERRY CHRISTMAS! Hope you all get extremely spoiled and have an amazing day with your family and loved ones! Love, E x**

**(10:40 25/12/12 GMT)**


	19. Wolves

Damon stepped out of the car in one swift motion, slamming the door shut behind him. He turned to Klaus, glaring expectantly at him. "What room?" he snapped, the resentment he was harboring towards his brother was getting the better of him.

Klaus grimaced and pointed to the only room in the two-floored L-shaped building with its blinds drawn shut. "That one." He muttered under his breath pushing off the edge of the car and making his way towards it.

Damon followed quickly, hesitating for a moment before touching the door handle. "Is he alone?" he asked quietly, his hand reaching into his pocket for a gun. Klaus nodded curtly, once before jerking his head in agreement, pulling his own gun from within his jacket.

Damon slowly pressed the handle down, shaking his head at Stefan's idiocy at leaving the door unlocked. He opened the door, stepped inside the room and pointed the gun at his brother's head in less than a heartbeat. "Locks are a useful invention, little brother, surprisingly, they only work if you _lock_ them."

Stefan stared at the two men in undisguised shock, holding his hands uncomfortably by his side. "Damon." He said quietly, refusing to meet his brother's gaze. "Klaus."

"Stefan." Klaus greeted pleasantly clicking the gun off the safety and moving around Damon, pressing the gun to the soft part of flesh between Stefan's shoulder and neck. He pushed him down to his knees, keeping the gun trained carefully on the younger man.

Damon lowered his gun, holding it up to his brother in a twisted salute before placing it down with a soft noise on the aged dresser near the door. "No guns." He said in a low voice. "Klaus, back up." He ordered, giving his friend a look. Klaus scoffed, pressing the gun more firmly into Stefan's skin. "I said back up," Damon clarified, sending a knowing look in Klaus' direction. "Not take the gun away."

Klaus backed away slowly, leaning against the back wall, his aim on Stefan never wavering. "You're lucky you're a Salvatore or you would be _dead_." He muttered angrily.

Damon leant casually against the door, blocking Stefan's escape. "What have you done, Stefan?" he asked aghast shaking his head. "Who are you working for?"

Stefan smirked slightly raising an eyebrow is contempt. "I'm making my own choices, brother, something you don't know anything about."

Damon tensed, glaring at Stefan with a look that could freeze a stronger man's soul. "A Vengeful Soul." He spat in disgust. "You're not even my brother any more."

Stefan lifted his chin defiantly from his position, kneeling on the ground with his hands empty. "Just ask your questions, get your answers and kill me." He growled in a strong voice.

"I don't even have questions to ask you, Stefan." Damon snapped irritated.

"Then leave." Stefan stated simply, shrugging slightly. "Your little Elena mystery has been solved, now fuck off."

Klaus snorted with disdain from behind him. "You think this is just about Elena? You were a Vagrants, by blood and by right." He hissed, moving closer with his gun held at arms length. "Don't ride, don't be a part of it and be respected for that. Don't betray your family and join the Vengefuls. You threw yourself to the wolves, Stefan."

"The Vengeful Souls weren't a part of my original plan." Stefan retorted defensively.

"No?" Damon shot in incredulously. "Just a spur of the moment thing then?" he asked sarcastically.

Stefan's green eyes met Damon's blues, fire burning in their emerald depths mirroring Damon's ocean storm. "Mason Lockwood." He said suddenly, staring into his brother's eyes with utter sincerity. "That's who Trevor's working for."

Klaus' mouth dropped open as he rounded around Stefan and came to stand in front of him. He studied him carefully, his blue eyes scanning over the man's face, reading him and seeing a different man that the one he had regarded as an ally. "You dumb bastard." He cursed viciously.

Damon glared at his brother, oblivious to Klaus' muttered curse. "Tyler's cousin?" he asked in disbelief. "Fancy yourself as the next deserter?" he bit out through clenched teeth. "It always come from the fucking family, doesn't it?" he ranted, pushing himself off the wall and groaning in fury.

Klaus slammed Damon suddenly against a wall, holding him there with his forearm pressed firmly against his windpipe. "What the fuck are you on about?" he demanded furiously.

Damon sighed, his anger diminished rapidly. "Mason didn't die." He added almost inaudibly, looking away from Klaus' intense gaze. Mason had been considered family to the Smith brother's and other than Tyler, Giuseppe and himself, none knew of his betrayal.

"He joined them." Klaus said, dropping his arm from Damon's windpipe. "You're fucking right. It does come from family."

Damon shoved Klaus away and glared at his brother again. "Why?" he asked him in a low voice.

Klaus shook his head at Damon's unneeded question, now leaning against the doorframe leading into the bathroom with his arms crossed. "Think about it, man." He urged quietly.

Damon looked at his brother, staring at the deep lines currently etched into his forehead and the worry that seemed to be burrowed deep into his green eyes. "You dumb bastard." He said softly, unwillingly echoing Klaus' words. "You dumb, fucking bastard."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Stefan replied coldly, keeping his face impassive.

Damon crouched in front of his brother, glaring angrily at the man supposed to always have his back. "Katherine." He said simply, gauging his brother's reaction. He watched carefully as Stefan's emerald eyes tightened and his jaw clenched. He shifted uncomfortably only slightly before fixing his gaze back on his brother.

"What did she promise you?" Klaus asked incredulously. "That she would leave Mason and run away with you? You're a fucking idiot Stefan!" Klaus yelled, pulling his gun and aiming at Stefan's chest.

"She's Lockwood's _wife_." Damon growled, standing up and backing away from Stefan in disgust. "She _can't_ leave him. You turned on your _family_, your legacy, your right as a Vagrant and betrayed it all for one girl who no matter what she tells you, can _never_ be with you?"

Stefan flinched at Damon's harsh words and looked at the ground, his green eyes dark and angry. "Tell me you wouldn't turn your world upside down for Elena." He challenged when he finally met his Damon's eyes again. "Tell me that."

Klaus snorted, rolling his eyes silently. "Elena isn't Mason Lockwood's wife. Elena isn't married to a Vengeful. Elena isn't married to a traitor and toying around with another." Damon spat out viciously.

"Tell me you wouldn't turn your world upside down for her." He repeated dangerously.

"I would." He admitted angrily, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "But I would never betray the Vagrants, let alone my _family_."

"Then I guess we're different." Stefan said indifferently, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess we are."

Klaus shook his head and stormed over to the brothers, interrupting their confrontation. "So Stefan's a fucking idiot and fell in love with Mason Lockwood's wife. Great," he began in a fuming tirade. "Where does this link to _anything_? How does it link to Michael or Trevor? How did you get involved with them? You didn't have to join the Vengeful Souls, what made you do it?" he demanded.

Stefan sighed and moved off of his knees, sitting comfortably on the floor. "Michael spotted me and Katherine one night. You know what he's like, he's one of the most well known but never the most dangerous." He said quietly, his eyes far away. "Either he told Mason or I joined the Vengefuls."

"You're going to get her killed." Damon hissed angrily. "You're endangering her life because you're too selfish to know what's best for her!"

"I know!" Stefan shouted loudly. "You think I don't realize that?"

"Enough sibling rivalry." Klaus ordered. He lifted his gun again for the hundredth time that day. "Keep going."

"It was either I joined or Katherine died; I joined." He shrugged uninterestedly. "Mason controls Trevor, Trevor controls Michael, that's how I ended up in the house that night."

"Doesn't explain why you shot Elena." Damon said shortly.

"Why not?" Stefan replied, shrugging again. Damon hissed in rage, restrained only by Klaus' strong arm holding him back. "It was you or her."

"Michael seemed like your little bitch." Klaus noted absently. "If he's controlling you, why does he listen to you?"

Stefan chuckled humorlessly. "Can you imagine how pissed Mason would be is he found out Michael knew about Katherine cheating on him? He'd be a dead man in hours. Call it a business relationship, and a strained one at that."

"You tell Lockwood then you die too." Damon said quietly, folding his arms. "Or has Michael not figured that out yet?"

"Michael wants you dead." Stefan pointed out. "You killed Finn; he wants your blood. He's a little preoccupied with finding you to worry about little details like that."

"He pissed me off." Damon said, waving his hand dismissively.

"I've pissed you off." His brother pointed out casually. "Why am I not dead?"

"Believe me, I'm asking myself the same question." Damon muttered under his breath. "You're my brother and I can't fucking kill you; I'm sure you understand that." He snapped bitterly, gesturing to Klaus impatiently.

"I can kill him," Klaus muttered loud enough that both men heard him.

"You're not killing him." Damon said firmly. He picked his gun up off the dresser and slid it back inside his jacket. "We're leaving."

Klaus groaned and narrowed his eyes. "Salvatore or not, Vagrant or not; if you do something stupid I'm sending a bullet through your head."

Damon sighed and grabbed Klaus' arm, roughly jerking him towards the door knowing fine well that Klaus would never pull that trigger. "Idiot." He muttered under his breath. "I'm surrounded by idiots; complete, fucking _idiots_."

As Klaus walked out of the motel room into the late morning sun, Stefan's voice rang out in the quiet room. "I love her, brother." He said sadly. "And she loves me, so blame me as you will, but that's my lot is and that's what I'm going to take."

Damon nodded once, his blue eyes unreadable as he stared at the stranger his brother has become.

* * *

Damon yawned loudly as he pulled up in front of Elena's apartment complex, stretching his arms above his head. It was now well into the afternoon as he had headed back to his apartment to shower and change and now all he wanted to do was pass out for the next several hours. He'd dozed restlessly for an hour or so at his own apartment before deciding any attempts at sleep were futile and he had made his way back to Elena. He opened his door and climbed out slowly, locking his Camaro and letting himself into the building. He made his way methodically towards the elevator, sluggishly pressing the button for the desired floor and leaning his head against the cold metal walls.

As he let himself into the apartment with the spare key he had honestly forgotten he had he smiled as he glimpsed Elena through the open sliding door of her bedroom, reaching high to place a pair of shoes in her walk-in wardrobe, giving him a great view of her ass in the short ragged denim shorts she was wearing. Some time during his absence she must have collected most of her belongings from his place and started to make her apartment less dead looking. He had to admit, he liked it without furniture; it gave him a strange sense of comfort. He moved quietly towards her, a sly grin on his lips as he footsteps were masked by the quiet music coming from her laptop.

Damon snuck up behind her, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her backwards onto the bed. He kissed the back of her neck messily, trailing his lips across her shoulders. She pulled out of his arms and rolled over so she was lying across his chest, smirking playfully. "Is your goal in life to scare me every time you get the chance?"

Brushing his hands over her sides, sliding them under the fabric of her top to feel her skin, he smirked gleefully, reaching up to capture her lips with his. "That wasn't scary." He insisted, running one hand through the ends of her hair.

Elena spluttered with laughter and pointed towards the door. "That was _locked_!"

"I forgot I had a key." Damon replied honestly with a wide smile. He sat up so she was sitting in his lap with her head pressed to his chest, kissing her again as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms wound around his neck. "Hi." He murmured sleepily into hair.

"Hey." She whispered back quietly. "Did you find him?" she asked softly, teasing the hair at the nape of his neck while her ear was pressed to the hollow of his throat.

Damon sighed dramatically, flopping backwards onto the bed again, causing Elena to curl up on his chest laughing lightly. "Yeah." He said, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger. "He did the same thing all fools do." He told her bitterly, his fingers on one hand dancing over her sides. "He fell in love with the wrong girl."

"Or the right girl at the wrong time." Elena added absently, her jaw moving against his chest. She shrugged lightly. "Something my Mom used to say." He said, her voice wavering slightly. "Never made much sense. She told me I'd get it one day." She shrugged weakly, a strained smile gracing her lips. "Then she told me love sucked and never to waste my time on anything I knew wouldn't go anywhere." Her voice cracked slightly as memories crashed over her.

Damon held her a little bit tighter in his arms. "Nothing makes sense when you first hear it." He pointed out, staring at the ceiling. "And then, one day it all clicks."

"She always told me to tell her when I figured it out." She whispered hoarsely, pressing her face firmly into the soft cotton of his long sleeved t-shirt. "But I can't." she said, her small frame shaking slightly. "I can't ever tell her anything." Damon didn't say a word; he held her in silence, letting her grieve in her own silent way. Few tears fell from her eyes as he kept his arms wrapped securely around her.

He watched the clouds move on the wind and the shadows change as the sun dipped in behind the cover, emerging only in faint beams penetrating the dull cloud. He listened steadily to the faint call of the birds and reveled in the silence of the desert. He felt the faint breeze against his skin, welcoming it as the hot sun shone through the glass. He ran his fingers across her back, moving in soft patterns across her spine.

"Thank you." She told him after a long period of silence. The shadows in the room had changed, washing them in the dull orange glow of the fading desert sun. She tilted her chin up so she could look into his eyes.

"Anytime." He told her softly, his voice rough. He unwound one hand from her waist and used it to gently tilt her chin up so he could claim her lips once more.

It started innocent; the sweet taste of her glancing against his lips, before Elena pulled herself up, straddling him dominantly as she smirked at him, stealing kisses across his neck. Her wandering hands found the edge of his shirt, pulling it up his chest and over his head with ease as he lifted his arms over his head.

Elena trailed kisses down his stomach, tracing the line of his hips with her tongue. Damon let out a rough noise of pleasure, grabbing her waist and lifting her off of him, leaving her on the bed not a second later. Damon was above her in moments, placing feverish kisses across the few inches of exposed stomach. He ripped her shirt off of her, throwing it carelessly away and tangling his hands in her hair as his tongue delved into the caverns of her mouth. Elena moaned, fighting him furiously, locking her legs around his hips. Damon broke the contact of their mouths, grinning against Elena's skin as she made an indignant noise of protest. Placing hot, open-mouthed kisses across her body he left a burning path across her neck, leading to her stomach and his hands found the catch of her shorts.

"Elena?" Giuseppe's voice bellowed loudly as he pounded loudly on the door, effectively dousing her in freezing cold water. "Damon!" he added laughing slightly after that. "I _know_ you're in there."

Elena sat up abruptly; unintentionally pushing Damon off her so hard he rolled off the bed and landed with a hard thump on the wooden flooring. "Ouch." He said his voice muffled by something. Elena bit her lip to stop herself from laughing as she rolled over onto her stomach, leaning her head on her arms as she took in Damon's disheveled appearance. "You better be planning on fixing this." He said pointedly, gesturing bluntly towards his jeans. She burst out laughing, unable to force herself to be quiet.

"That's disgusting." She said, smiling slyly. "Your dad's right outside, and _someone_ can't seem to keep quiet if I remember correctly." She said, winking at him as she lifted her head off her arms and moved closer to him, hovering her lips inches from his.

"Yeah, _you_." Damon retorted, his eyes sparkling as they glanced between her lips and her eyes. "Remind me how good I am? I'm sure you told me last night - _several_ times in fact..." he trailed off meaningfully, shooting her a playful glare. Elena launched a pillow at him, laughing uncontrollably as he ducked comically, glaring at her.

"Not funny." He warned threateningly, his eyes bright and happier than she'd ever seen.

"Elena!" Grayson shouted this time. "If you're trying to be quiet, might wanna tone it down."

Elena rolled out the bed, wandering over to where her shirt lay abandoned and bent over for Damon's benefit, hearing him moan in displeasure. Elena slipped her shirt over her head and turned around, leaning against the wall as she looked at him. He was sitting pouting against her bed, looking incredibly irritated. She crouched down in front of him and pulled him into a rough kiss, fighting his tongue as he groaned and wrapped one hand securely in her hair while the other was braced against the floor keeping him upright. "They won't be here long. Trust me, Grayson won't want to stay here longer than necessary." She said chuckling, gesturing to her wild appearance. Damon smirked, looking proud of himself as he pushed himself up off the floor and pulled his shirt over his head. He ran his fingers through her hair gently, working out the worst of the mess.

She shook her head, her eyes sparkling with delight and wandered through the sliding doors of her bedroom, squealing in surprise as Damon charged after her and grabbed her from behind, spinning her around wildly and tickling her mercilessly, leaving her a giggling mess in his arms. He knew she would have sunk to the floor if he didn't have one arm securely wrapped around her waist. He kissed behind her ear, grinning happily as she set her down and reached over with his free hand and pulled the floor door open, winking obnoxiously at Grayson who was looking at them both with a horrified expression.

"Afternoon." He drawled, gesturing exaggeratedly for them to enter. "Please, sit down." The two older men walked into the apartment, staring around in disbelief.

"Nice furniture, 'Lena." Grayson commented dryly, closing the door with a amused grin.

"You didn't get the girl for furniture?" Giuseppe asked his son incredulously, raising a greying eyebrow. Damon shook his head, rolling his eyes at his father. Giuseppe tutted and looked at his life-long best friend. "Shocking."

Damon burst out laughing and held one hand up in surrender, the other still wrapped out Elena's waist. "I was busy!"

Elena turned and stared at him in shock, her brown eyes wide and dancing with hidden laughter. Giuseppe roared with amusement, his rough melody echoing around the empty room. Grayson stared in revulsion at the man he had known for nearing thirty years and the girl he had his arm wrapped around with his fingers moving gently over her hips, who just _happened_ to be his daughter.

"Anyway, moving on…" Grayson prompted eagerly, motioning with his hands uncomfortably.

Damon's eyes went wide. "I didn't mean that kind of busy, you sick old man." He said aghast, staring horrified at his father. "I had to find Stefan-"

The light in Giuseppe's eyes dimmed at the mention of his younger son's name. "And why did you have to find Stefan?" he asked in a quiet voice, his blue eyes looking seriously into the identical one's of his son. Damon opened his mouth slightly, looking as if he was about to say something before he shut it firmly, looking away from his father's gaze.

Elena looked up at the three men in the room, meeting her father and Giuseppe's gazes for a split-second while her hand slid under Damon's shirt to feel his hot skin against her, more for comfort than anything else. He moved his arm; winding it around her shoulders and bringing her close to he could place a chaste kiss to her hair. She took a deep breath, meeting the oldest Salvatore's eyes and briefly registering the shock in them.

"Why did you have to find Stefan?" he repeated quietly, staring curiously at the younger couple, noticing the sot touches and gentle comfort they found in each other. Elena met his eye with an unwavering gaze, and he saw his best friend within their depths.

"Because he was the one who shot me."


	20. Bullets

**Holy shit, this story is getting _loooong_.**

* * *

An eerie silence settled over the room. The last remnants of the fading sunlight dropped beneath the horizon, washing over the room like a storm cloud. Grayson's eyes burned with anger; fury bubbled over the motel pits of chocolate brown at he stared with a grim expression at the worn wooden flooring. His eyes never flickered to his life-long friend or his only daughter, they stared, cold and hard, at the floor. Still as a statue, Grayson slowed looked up and met Damon's ice blue eyes, silent questions pouring out of his gaze.

Giuseppe sat by Grayson's side, his eyes raging with emotions; the turmoil so overpowering even his son couldn't match his feelings. Damon could see how many thoughts were filling his father's head; his son's betrayal, the pain of knowing the grief his son had caused his best friend, the clinical shock that came with these things. He felt numb, untouchable in his own shell.

"Stefan shot you?" Giuseppe asked in a steady voice, as he became the first to meet Elena's gaze. His eyes barely flickered as Damon's hand slowly moved behind her, ghosting over her back.

"He was aiming for me." Damon added quietly without much reason.

"Stefan tried to shoot you?" Giuseppe choked out roughly, his eyes widening considerably. "Why?" he gasped, leaning his on his hands.

Damon sighed bitterly, leaning the back of his head against the wall and wrapping a hand around Elena's waist, his rough hands brushing over the sensitive skin of her hips. "He fell in love."

Grayson snorted in disdain. "He fell in _love_?" he replied mockingly, his eyes burning in the faded light. "He shot my daughter," he growled angrily. "You don't shoot people, or betray family, or turn on people because you fell in love."

"You would have torn the world apart for Miranda." Giuseppe pointed out, glaring pointedly at his friend. "All because you fell in love."

"Love is overrated." Grayson spat, pushing off the wall abruptly. "We're done here. Let's go."

Giuseppe glared at the man he had known so long, barely recognizing the shadow he had become over the past few weeks. "You go. Go have a drink and get some sleep." He ordered softly. He walked over to the other man and clapped him on the shoulder. "You can't keep this up forever, Gray. Just go." Grayson nodded, retreating from the apartment with subdued steps.

"He acts like I don't even exist." Elena muttered in Damon's ear, unable to stop the sadness creeping into her voice.

"He's stressed." Giuseppe told her. Elena flushed, looking away from the older man; she didn't think he'd hear her. "More than you know."

"Are you not going too?" Damon asked forcing his tone to remain pleasant.

Giuseppe stared at his son in disbelief. "You're going to tell me why my son tried to shoot my other son, but shot my goddaughter instead." He forced out through gritted teeth. Elena's eyes widened slightly as she looked at Giuseppe. He smiled good-naturedly at her. "I always wanted a daughter, I practically bullied Gray into it."

Elena chuckled warmly. Without meaning too, Giuseppe had set so much at rest within her. The man always sent a slight shiver of sureness through her. She never knew how to act of what to say; for once she wouldn't have that problems. She wrapped an arm around Damon's waist and rested her forehead against his shoulder.

"Start talking, Damon." He ordered in a strange tone; his eyes as guarded as his tongue.

"Remember Mason Lockwood?" Damon snapped bitterly. Giuseppe nodded curtly. "He's up in the big leagues now, married, power in the Vengefuls." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "Stefan fell in love with his wife."

From there the whole story came pouring out. Damon talked without interruption, eventually sitting down on the ground with Elena by his side. He avoided his father's gaze. He didn't want to see the pain he would surely try to hide, or the betrayal they both felt so deeply mirrored in his own.

"He betrayed his whole family," Giuseppe snarled; rage building roughly in his chest. "The club, his blood, for some girl? He lied straight to my face, for a girl?"

Damon didn't even defend his brother. He nodded mutely, his hands trembling in anger. Elena unwound his hand from his waist, gently twisting her fingers through his and pressing her lips to his arms. Not a kiss as such, just a movement of her lips, silent whispers against his skin. There were words spoken next, both by him and his father, but in the end, all of which they spoke came from the deepest parts of their hearts, a part painfully betrayed by a brother and by a son. Elena sat by him the whole time he and Giuseppe talked of little and large things, sometimes sleeping deeply or dozing gently on his shoulder or awake and gently tracing patterns on the back of his hand.

"Keep her close." Giuseppe told him as Elena dozed against his shoulder, still clutching his hand.

"She seems to get hurt when she's close." Damon muttered, looking down at her face.

"She'll hurt more if you walk away." He pointed out reasonably. "Answer me straight for once Damon."

"You didn't ask a question." He pointed out, smirking lightly.

Giuseppe scowled at his son, and shook his head incredulously. His expression became thoughtful as his calculating look washed warmly over his son. "Do you love her?"

Damon froze, the answer coming to his lips immediately. He pushed it down, forcing himself to meet Giuseppe's gaze and shrug lightly. Elena's head rolled off his shoulder, starting her awake. She blinked blearily and yawned, running a hand through her hair. Damon dropped a kiss to her temple and stood up walking his father to the door. Giuseppe's blue eyes met his son's with a knowing look. They flickered past him, resting on the brunette who was looking out of the window. "You didn't answer." Giuseppe pointed out casually as he stepped out into the hallway.

Damon shrugged and met his father's eyes unwaveringly. "I don't need to." Giuseppe bowed his head in admiration for Damon's uncanny talent at deflecting. "Bye, Dad." He said quietly as he shut the door softly.

Elena leant against her bedroom door, staring at Damon with a small suggestive smirk on her face. He turned around and looked at her, a slow grin creeping onto his features. He charged at her, bulldozing her backwards onto the bed as she squealed with laughter, her entire body shaking as he pinning her to the bed, resting his clasped hands on her exposed stomach. He pressed his lips there, grinning against her hot skin as goose bumps erupted all over his body.

"I do believe we were in the middle of something Miss Elena." He said in his southern drawl, his eyes glittering in the light of the moon. He pressed another kiss to her stomach, trailing achingly slowly towards her hipbones, gently dragging his tongue across one. She trembled beneath him, one of her legs wrapping slowly around his back so her foot rested against the dip in his spine.

He moved his mouth lower, his hands setting fire to her body as he slid them up the smooth skin of her calves and thighs to rest against her hips. His wandering hands slowly found the catch of her shorts, unbuttoning them and sliding them down her legs at a pace made for torture. Elena groaned in frustration, grabbing the lapels of his shirt and yanking him upwards to meet her lips, overturning them so she straddled his muscled stomach.

Damon's eyes burned as they raked shamelessly over her figure as she sat atop him. "You're so gorgeous." He growled lowly, capturing her lips furiously and twisting his hands in her long coffee colored locks.

Elena murmured in appreciation, placing burning kisses along his jawline. "You're not too bad yourself." She gasped out through her kisses. Her hands found the hem of his shirt, and she dropped quickly, her mouth leaving Damon's neck so quickly he groaned in irritation. He swallowed his sounds of displeasure as her mouth latched onto the few inches of centimeters of exposed muscles, working up his chest at a rapid pace, pushing his shirt off him as she went. He claimed her mouth again as he sat up, keeping her encaged in his lap in his arms, ripping her own shirt off without so much theatrics. He unsnapped her bra, tearing it away from her body and placing fevered kisses across her bared skin. Her hands threaded through his hair as she yanked him upwards, catching his lower lip between her teeth. He growled pushing her down onto the mattress so her head hung off the end of the bed. Elena gasped in shock as the world suddenly flipped upside down. Damon grasped her hips, pulling her gently towards him as her world righted. He worshipped her skin with heated kisses; his lips, his teeth and his tongue attacked her neck, her shoulders and her mouth. His finger slid inside of her slowly, pulling out again after only a second, teasing her helplessly. She bit back a moan as she turned her head into the sheets. Damon caught her mouth again, silencing her moans as he slid his digits back inside of her. Her back arched deliciously, pressing her chest to his and her arms wound around his neck and held him close to her.

Suddenly, wave after wave of desire crashed over her so fast she barely had time to prepare herself as her body was attacked by endless pleasure. She lay trembling beneath him as Damon laid lazy kisses along her collarbone. His hands brushed her sensitive button, making her gasp and arch against him. She took control, rolling them over and taking her hands to his jeans.

"You're wearing too many clothes." She murmured hotly against his ear, her breath tickling his neck as she slowly moved back to his lips. He groaned, his hands threading into her hair and holding her tightly to him as her hand slid inside of his jeans, catching him in her teasing grip. Pushing his jeans down his legs, her hand gently caressed the length of him, torturing him slowly as her mouth kissed his lips fiercely.

Damon swallowed roughly, the pure torture of her slow movement becoming too much. Turning them over and sliding into her with ease, her groaned at the contact, attacking her neck with burning kisses as he moved with her, her hips moving with his. Her nails dug into the hard muscles of his back raking across his skin leaving angry red marks across his flawless skin. He bit, sucked and kissed across her neck, leaving marks on her skin, marking her as his, and only his. She threw her head back against the pillow as he felt the familiar tightening around him. He bit back a yell as he came just after she did, kissing the skin around her ear as he whispering soft words to her. He collapsed heavily against her heaving chest.

Elena shifted uncomfortably beneath him, her body suddenly becoming tense. She pushed his shoulder roughly. He rolled off her without question, gazing at her with her eyes. She shook her head and kissed him languidly, gesturing towards the still tender gunshots marring her body.

"Shit 'Lena." He cursed, his hands brushing gently over the tender skin as a hot sting of fury surged through his body towards his brother. "I forgot." He added weakly, running a hand over her ribs in a soft comfort.

"So did I." she replied ruefully, moving over slightly to lean her head against his chest. He wound his arms around her and rested his cheek against her soft hair.

"Does it hurt?"

She snorted. Damon could feel her laughter radiating from her entire body through to his. "Yes." She said sniggering lightly. "But not because of you, you idiot."

"You're sure?" he asked gently, winding a single strand of her hair around one of his fingers. She nodded against him, letting her eyes drop close.

"Shut up and sleep." She said, one of her hands reaching up to rest against his neck, gently playing with the soft strands of hair that rested there.

"Charming." He scoffed, running his hands over her spine.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger there as he eyes dropped shut. Her steady heartbeat against his chest lulled him into a deep sleep, where he lay, with Elena in his arms and it finally, after everything, actually seemed like everything was finally getting better.

/

"Turn your phone off." Elena grumbled sleepily, nudging his chest gently. She sighed, hitting his chest sharply. Damon grunted, his face shooting up out of the pillow. "Go get your phone." She repeated, closing her eyes and dropping her face back into the soft pillows.

Damon pressed his face back into the pillow, using the arm still draped over her back to pull her close to him. "You get it."

Elena scowled and glanced at him. She sighed, his eyes seemed to be able to make her do anything, and got up wandering over to the sound of Damon's phone beneath the pile of clothes that had accumulated near the door. She crouched down, pulling Damon's dark shirt over her head before she picked up his cracked iPhone and answered the call from the unknown number.

"Hello?" she asked curiously as she stood up again, leaning against the wall as her eyes burned into Damon's shamefully hot back.

"_Hi Elena_." came a quiet voice through the line. "_Is Damon there_?" Her heart clenched in her chest as she matched the voice to a face in her mind.

Elena gritted her teeth as surges of emotion pounded over her. She stalked over to the bed and pushed Damon's shoulder roughly to roll him over. He rolled onto his back and stared at her blearily, wiping the sleep from his eyes. She dropped the phone onto his chest and swiftly walked away, moving towards the kitchen.

"Elena?" Damon called hoarsely after her, glancing between her and the phone in his hand. "Hello? Who is this?" he asked irritably from her bed as she wandered into the kitchen area, rummaging through the empty cupboards to try and remember where she put her pain pills. He didn't need some girl calling him up and causing problems, he had enough of those as it was.

Relief crashed over Elena as she spotted the little orange pot sitting on the worktop. She opened it quickly, finding little problems with the child safety cap. She had never understood those. Kids nowadays could figure out how to open these things quicker than most adults could. She shook out two into her hands and quickly swallowed them, sticking her head under the tap to swallow some water.

Damon's warm hand gently caressed her back through his shirt. "What did he want?" Elena asked softly, turned towards him and pushing herself up onto the counter. Her eyes were downcast, a blazing fire burning behind the molten chocolate.

"For us to meet him at the motel at some point today." He told her quietly, leaning against the kitchen island opposite her. "We don't have to go."

"I want to." Elena said surprisingly. She shrugged flippantly. "It's still really early, we can go later."

Damon scrutinized her carefully, searching her face for any signs of hesitation. He sighed and pushed himself off of the counter, moving closer to her and cupping her cheek with one hand and kissing the other softly. She blinked at the sweet gesture, her heart thumping in her chest as she watched him open cupboards and drawers, his hands drumming gently on the work surface. "You have no food."

"I also have no furniture." She said ruefully, looking around at the bare room. She liked seeing the worn floorboards, and the empty rooms; she almost didn't want to furnish it, but she'd already ordered stuff online and arranged with the landlord to let the deliverymen in and to unpack and put the stuff together if she wasn't here. "So I ordered some, much like you do with food."

"I could cook your breakfast." He said, his eyes sparkling. "But you have no food so you'll have to miss out."

Elena laughed, running her hands through her hair as she brought her legs up onto the surface and crossed them in a basket. "Go get some then."

Damon wandered over and stood in front of her, his hands bracing his weight against the counter. His eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips as he literally eye fucked her right there. She rolled her eyes and pushed off the counter brushing past him playfully. "Boring." He called after her, sticking his tongue out though he couldn't see her.

She whirled around, her eyes bright and playful as she slowly pulled up the hem of his shirt, teasing him as inch by inch of her tanned stomach until she finally pulled it over her head, leaving her in just a lacy black lingerie set. "You can make me breakfast." She shouted as she walked to the bathroom, turned on the shower and waited a few moments for it to begin to heat up.

Damon was in the bathroom in a flash, caging her against the sink and nibbling across her collarbone. She smirked at him, pushing him off her and stepping out of her underwear. Moving under the hot spray, she turned to look into his lustful gaze. She barely got a second to appreciate just how gorgeous he was before he pulled off his jeans and stepped into the shower.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, relaxing under the hot spray. She gasped in surprise as she felt his hands move through her hair, massaging shampoo into her scalp. She bent her head backwards, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his mouth down to hers. He kissed her sweetly, making no effort to make things more heated as the shampoo drained away and he ran his hands through her hair, working out the knots and adding conditioner as he placed gentle kisses across her shoulder.

His hand slip between their slick bodies, flicking against her sensitive nub causing her to gasp and arch against him. "I knew you couldn't keep it PG for long."

"Mmm. No." he murmured, placing more fevered kisses across her neck as his other hand reached up to massage her breast.

He spun her round suddenly, pulling her flush against his body and claiming her mouth in a bruising kiss as his hands roamed freely over her body. His hands slid down her thighs, lifting her so she wrapped her legs around his waist. He caged her against the cold tiles, sliding into her without hesitation, groaning at the feeling of her tightness around him. He kissed her neck; biting, licking and sucking a path from her ear to the dip between her breasts. She threaded her fingers through his hands as she moved his hips against as him, crying out as he moved within her. Her arms tightened around his neck, pulling his lips to her mouth, kissing him fiercely as he pounded into her, the hard coldness off the tiles to her back and the warm heat of Damon at her front. She gasped and leant her head against the tiled walls as he built her higher and higher, keeping her just under the edge. He let his head fall into the crook between her neck and shoulder, muffling his groans of pleasure against her damp skin.

He reaches between them once more, his hand gently flicking her button and sending her hurtling over the edge, crying out his name in pleasure as her long nails raked over the skin of his back, running over the previously red marks of he previous night. He allowed himself to let go, following over the edge as his grip tightened around her waist, pulling her tighter against him as he groaned, cursing and kissing her neck feverishly.

They both recovered slowly. Elena was still resting in Damon's arms, her legs still locked around his waist as he held her close to him, making no attempt to move away from her and his head rested comfortably against her neck. He kissed the hollow of her throat gently, sending a jolt of electricity through Elena's body. She pulled his hair back to kiss his lips again, and run her hands through his hair.

"Should we go see your brother now?" She said, watching water drip temptingly down his neck. She dropped her legs from around his waist, leaning over to turn of the shower and leaving them warm within the steam filled shower.

He kissed her so tenderly she nearly sank to the floor right there and then. His hands brushed over her cheeks gently as he gazed at her sadly. "Yeah. We'll go see my brother."

* * *

It was a long time after they woke up that they finally made it to the motel Stefan was hiding out in. Their escapades in the shower hadn't been ended, they had simply moved to the bedroom. Twice. Much to Elena's dismay as her hair had been such a state she'd been forced to wash it again which of course let to another time. It was now past noon and they were sitting in Damon's Camaro in the hard-packed dirt car pack outside the hotel.

"I miss my bike. Why didn't you let me ride?" she grumbled, her arms folding across her chest in irritation.

"You were shot." Damon replied mildly, rummaging through his back seat to find something and slide it surreptitiously into his pocket. Elena tensed as she saw the dark metal object slide into his pocket. She got out the car quickly, shutting the door slightly harder than necessary, leaving Damon in the cab, staring bewilderedly after her. He got out, locking the car and walking around to her. "We can leave."

Elena's frown deepened. "No." she said slowly, meeting his eyes. "Just don't shoot him."

Damon rolling his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets and stalking over to the room Stefan had made his home. "No promises."

Elena sighed and followed him, her stomach clenching in knots, as the door Damon had just knocked open swung open, revealing the man she couldn't help but feel a sharp sting of loathing towards. He'd fired two bullets into her body and they fucking _hurt_. She took an involuntary step back, hitting Damon's chest suddenly as his strong hands gripped her shoulders soothingly.

"We can go." Damon reminded her quietly, staring straight into Stefan's hard eyes with burning fury.

"No." she said, her voice smooth and even as she scanned carelessly over Stefan. She caught sight of a young woman hiding behind his shadow, leaning tersely against a wall as she watched the scene unfolding in the doorway with curious eyes. She jutted her chin out defiantly, meeting the eyes of woman with a steady gaze. "No." she repeated, moving away from Damon's hands and touching his arm with fingers so soft her unforgiving tone cut through him like a knife through butter.. "I just might shoot him too."

* * *

**_A/N: IT'S BEEN SO LONG. _**

**_This chapter was like drawing blood from a stone, but since that phrase is entirely over used I'm going to say it was like drawing the motivation to go out and exercise on December 26th - yeah, I thought so._**

**_I'm not happy with it; some parts I like, some parts I hate but the time taken to fix, change, rewrite and edit it was only going to make it marginally better so I gave it to ya as is._**


	21. Poison

**_I'm so sorry it's been so long! This chapter has been in the works since before I even posted Chp. 20 but I couldn't get it right, and I'm still not a 100% happy with it. Updates should be more frequent now I'm back in the swing of things, though saying that, life gets in the way and I'm not sure how it's gonna go. _**

**_In my opinion, it gets a lot better towards the end, but I didn't have the heart to rewrite the whole thing, I've already been through that process about six times! If anyone is still reading, thank you for sticking with this._**

* * *

Stepping warily into the room, Elena locked eyes with Stefan for a moment, his sad green eyes grating on her resolve. Without warning, a torrent of anger flooded into her blood; she wasn't an angry person by nature. She got pissed off, of course she did, but when it came to the red-hot blaze of fury – the kind you feel when someone fires a bullet or two into your body – it was not an emotion that came to her often. As hot as the Phoenix sun, is burned through her. Pulsing in waves as it pounded over her mind.

"Elena." He greeted warily, an underlying curiosity simmered beneath his eyes as he studied her with undisguised wonder. Perhaps it was at the fact she was alive, or maybe it was the hard glare beneath her soft eyes.

"Leave her alone. You shot her, brother." Damon shrugged, more anger than intentional spilling into him voice. He'd wanted to appear calm. Collected and controlled – completely on top of the situation. Instead his jaw clenched as he glared at Stefan over her head. "_Twice_."

Before Stefan could retaliate, or Elena could put in her much needed two cents a sharp female voice rang through the room. "You shot her?" the woman hissed in a low voice. "You fucking shot someone?"

"Twice." Damon chimed in merrily, relaxing against the drab walls and smirking superiorly at his brother.

"Kat," Stefan began hesitantly, furrowing his brow and glancing between the three other people in the room.

Katherine rolled her eyes and sat down furiously on one of the twin beds. She crossed her legs haughtily and glared at Stefan. Damon bit back laughter as he smirked smugly at his younger brother.

"Your reputation precedes you." He said contemptuously. "It's not much to go on. Reckless, idiotic, careless is what I got from the start."

Katherine stared at him, a sardonic smirk gracing her features. "I got the same about you, Salvatore."

"Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?" he said bluntly, his icy eyes burning intensely into Katherine's.

"Are you?" she retorted, glaring at him without missing a beat. "I know my risks; I know what I'm risking by being here. So by all means, make your judgments but at the end of it all, you're just as stupid as the rest of us." Her eyes flickered to Elena briefly.

Elena burst out laughing despite herself, drawing the young brunette's attention to her. "She's got a point."

Damon glanced at her for a moment, a look of mock-hurt in his wide eyes. "Now I'm just offended. I would _never_ gamble away your life."

She shrugged, rolling her shoulders back and cracking her neck, a habit that seemed to have grown over the past month or so. She didn't find any particular pleasure in bending her body to crack in unnatural ways, but the way it filled an awkward silence seemed to work for her. Her eyes scanned over the room, landing briefly on the two brothers so at odds they weren't like brothers at all. What else can you expect really? Betrayal hits home hardest when it comes from family.

"I'm hungry." Katherine announced suddenly, standing up and giving Elena a look. "I'm getting lunch." She stalked over to Elena and grabbed her arm, dragging her towards the door.

"Looks like I'm getting lunch." she said, following Katherine warily. Stefan raised his eyebrows skeptically, crossing his arms across his chest as his eyes followed the two girls move across the room.

"Have fun with the she-devil." Damon sniped irritably.

"Have fun with your brother." She retorted, frowning at him. "Try not to get shot, it's a real inconvenience." She snapped spitefully before storming out of the motel room with the door slamming shut with a soft thump.

* * *

"So, what's your deal?" Elena asked curiously through a mouthful of food as she pointed her fork accusingly at Katherine. They were sitting outside a small café under the shade of an umbrella. After she'd dragged her out of the motel, Katherine had barely said a word to her, only giving vague commentary on where they were going, if 'lunch' could even be classed as an appropriate answer to 'where are we going?' "You know you could get caught and then you, _and_ _Stefan_, will be dead?"

Katherine scoffed, leaning back in her chair and giving her a contemptuous look. "In this place? With you?" she rolled her eyes and took a drink of water. "No chance."

"The Vengefuls Souls are as big as the Vagrants." She pointed out reasonably, squinting her eyes against the bright sun.

Katherine shook her head. "Smaller. More stuck-up. The Vagrants are brothers; they're as close as you can get. It's not a trial to them to be in the club, it's a family." She sighed, shrugging slightly. "With the Vengefuls you're more likely to get stabbed in the back than you are to get arrested. No one will report back, they're too scared of being wrong. They're careless, they don't cover their members apart from the ones that matter."

Elena glared at her with a steely gaze. "That is the more ironic statement I've ever heard." She scoffed incredulously. "Stefan turned around and stabbed his brother, his own flesh and blood, in the back."

"I never asked him to do that." She whispered hoarsely. "Trust me. I _know_ how important family is."

"Stefan was going to shoot him!" Elena yelled suddenly, glancing around at the sudden hush that fell over the surrounding tables. "He was going to shoot his brother." She repeated in a lower voice.

"But he didn't." Katherine protested stubbornly.

"Yeah, I know. He shot me instead." Katherine's eyes fell downwards, her lips curving into a sad smile.

"He-" Katherine stopped suddenly, looking at Elena sharply. "Why were you there? I knew what was going down and you couldn't have got me running further away. Why did Damon take you to Giuseppe's place? Why di-"

Elena let out a short laugh, her eyes bright and laughing as they always were around strangers. "Grayson Gilbert managed to hide a daughter for twenty-two years. Surprise."

Katherine breathed out, laughing in disbelief. "_You're_ Elena."

"How do you know my name?" she questioned sharply, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"For all his faults, Mason can be sweet-"

"You're cheating on him Katherine, quit the sugar coating." Elena interjected sweetly, sending a sickening smile in Katherine's direction.

Glaring at her irritably, Katherine continued as if she hadn't spoken. "He thought we looked alike – we don't, by the way, though the picture of you he had was seriously outdated – and decided his sweet, innocent, little wife would _never_ tell a soul. So he showed me a bunch of files, going on about Slater and Trevor; god, it was tedious." Katherine shrugged half-heartedly. "But I was curious as to how he managed to hide you for so long."

"Your husband doesn't know you very well then." She said dryly, taking a drink of water. "You want to get out."

Katherine rolled her eyes widely and frowned, brushing off her last sentence. They ate in silence for a while, only the traffic bustling through the streets and the voices of the odd passers by mingling with the sounds of the city.

"What's your deal?" she repeated softly, looking at Katherine with inquisitive eyes.

Katherine sighed and buried her face in her hands, her curly brown hair falling heavily over her uncovered face. She took a great shuddering breath before looking at Elena over the tops of her fingernails. "I'm like a messed up rom-com. Fell for the wrong guy, got mixed up in the wrong crowd. I wanted _out_, Elena!" she said roughly, cracks showing in her strong mask. "I didn't mean for it to turn it to this."

"You can still get out." Elena said quietly, leaning back in her chair and examining Katherine carefully. She was unlike anyone she'd ever met. She was as strong as she let you believe, until she let you in and you crumbled like a house of cards, tumbling from their shaky foundations.

"I'm married to a Vengeful Soul and in love with a Vagrant." She cried exasperatedly. "_How_? How can that possibly end up with me anything other than dead?"

"Stefan isn't a Vagrant." Elena said sharply, her tone like a wavering blade. "He-" she broke off suddenly looking around exasperatedly. "He's just not."

Perhaps she wasn't as strong as everyone believed either. Katherine signaled to the waiter to bring them the check and they paid for their meal, an unspoken need for silence settling between them. They walked quietly towards Katherine's car, each of the women deep in their own thought. When they pulled up in front of the shabby little hotel, Katherine grabbed Elena's arm to stop her stepping out of the vehicle.

"We probably shouldn't go in yet." She said quietly, settling back into her seat and folding her arms across her chest.

Elena opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. "Do we wait until they kill each other?"

"We wait until they stop arguing long enough to call one of us."

Elena snorted, relaxing against the leather seats. "That won't happen."

"It will." She said confidently, pushing her sunglasses onto the top of her head. "You got siblings?" Elena shook her head. "Null point then but I've got two brothers and a sister. My brothers would kill for each other and my sister and I."

"What's your point?" she said curiously, turning her body so she was facing Katherine with her back pressed against the inside of the door.

"They hate each other."

Elena sighed and glanced at the silent motel room. "But they're brothers."

"Exactly."

"What they like?" she asked despite herself, leaning her chin on her knee.

Katherine snorted with laughter and looked at her gleefully. "No way. We're not getting into my family."

Elena chuckled with her. "It's that or we talk about the many other more serious topics."

Katherine sighed loudly, a tense look passing over her features. "There's me and Jamie, then Luca and then Rebekah." She said the last with a sour look on her face. "Jamie's only like, a year older than me, we grew up together. He was my best friend for my whole life." Katherine's eyes saddened considerably as she stared into the distance. "We don't talk much anymore. Luca's never liked me," she said with a short laugh. "And Rebekah's hated me since the day she was born. Quite the family, huh?" she said cheerfully, flashing her a grin.

Elena shrugged. "You've got more to tell that I do."

"I'm heard about what Trevor did to your mom. I'm sorry." She said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

"You know about that too?" she said with a sigh, leaning her head against the window. Katherine nodded silently. "No point apologizing," she bit out shortly. "It's over, it's not like you can turn back time."

"Suppose not." she paused hesitantly, glancing at Elena as if she might explode. Katherine wasn't the girl she'd imagined; she was short, sarcastic and more than a little bitchy but she wasn't cold.

She sighed again, her temper flaring furiously. "Can we go in yet?" she snapped impatiently, opening the door of the car and storming outside at the same time Damon emerged from the motel boiling at the ears.

"Go time." Katherine muttered under her breath and ducked out of the car. "See you around Elena." She said quietly as she headed swiftly towards the doorway, hanging slightly off the catch after Damon had stormed out. She got out of the car too, standing against the car in the dusty lot as he made his way closer to her.

"Hey." Elena said quietly, cocking her head to the side.

Damon shook his head half-heartedly, and took her face between his palms and kissed her softly and buried his head in her hair. Her face fell into the crook of his neck perfectly and she let his hands gently wander across her back.

"What's up with you?" she laughed softly, her eyelashes brushed against his shoulder.

He chuckled lowly and pulled away, opening her car door for her. "Just something Stefan said."

She raised an eyebrow as she got in the car. "What did he say?"

He shook his head again, eyes focused on the road. "Just something about you, the Vengefuls. You mean a lot to me 'Lena, I don't want you hurt anymore because of me."

"The Vengefuls were after me long before I met you." She said quietly, leaning her head back against the soft leather to look at him as they pulled onto the deserted highway.

"And the Vengefuls were after Giuseppe long before that."

"Nothing's gonna happen to me." She protested stubbornly, crossing her arms, ignoring the ache that spread down from her shoulder.

"I don't want to risk that!" Damon said, his voice growing angry. "Do you think I want to turn up at your apartment and see you dead because I wasn't there?"

"Do you think I want that?" she retorted, groaning loudly in exasperation. "Don't do this again. Don't put this all on you. Don't think that you ending this whole thing is going to fix anything."

"You were shot, Elena. For god's sake, open your eyes. You're not safe-"

"I'm still alive." She chimed in cheerfully, smirking at him with a cool glint in her eyes.

"Because Stefan didn't want to shoot _me_!" he finished stubbornly as f she hadn't spoken, glaring at her. "The Vengefuls want nothing more than to see Grayson suffer. And how do they do that? They kill his only fucking daughter! Why are you so set on getting killed?"

"What's this all about?" she said loudly, cutting him off abruptly. He was silent for a while, his icy eyes fixed unblinkingly on the empty road.

"I just don't want to lose you." He muttered quietly, swerving violently onto his turn off.

"You won't." she said, her voice even and unwavering. "Where are we even going?" she asked in exasperation. "Why aren't you going to my place?"

"You're staying at the clubhouse." He said sharply, running his hand through his hair in irritation.

"Why?" she groaned, thumping her head back against the old leather headrest.

"Because I need you safe. Inside. With cameras. And other people to stop you doing something _stupid_."

She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "Why does it matter? Just take me home."

"I don't want you there alone." He argued his voice unusually subdued. He glanced at her for a millisecond, his blue eyes flashing lighting in the bright sun.

"Take me _home_." Elena snapped sharply. "Now."

"No." he said through gritted teeth, pulling into the courtyard and braking the car and sending a dust cloud high into the air. He opened his door and got out angrily, circling the car to pull her door open for her. She stormed out, heading towards the clubhouse in a haze of anger. "Elena!" He yelled impatiently, reaching out to grab her arm.

"_What_?" she yelled, her eyes blazing dangerously even from the distance she was standing away from him. "You are _not_ someone who can tell me what to do without telling me why. You were _never_ that person. That was my Dad, or Giuseppe or every other goddamn guy I've ever known. You've never been like that! Don't be that person now." With that, she stomped away, barging into the clubhouse without another glance in his direction.

Damon cursed furiously, running both hands through his hair. He made up his mind in a split second, jogging after her and gripping her firmly around the waist to pull her around to face him. She pulled away sharply but his arms caged her body gently and he leant his forehead against hers.

"You are _so_ important to me. And I don't know why or when it happened." He whispered, running his hands up her arms so cradle her face. "But I can't lose you." She blinked once, her huge eyes staring up at him, for once, all walls and barriers completely broken down.

She took a deep breath, reaching up her hands to wind around his neck and pull him close to her, letting her face fall into his shoulder. His arms fell to her waist, holding her close to him as if it physically hurt him to have her apart. "Will you take me home?" she said finally, her eyes closed as she breathed in the sweet, musky poison that was Damon Salvatore.

He sighed, pulling away and leading her gently to the car with one arm wrapped around her shoulder. "Get in."

* * *

"Giuseppe, Damon has got to get his fucking act together." Grayson roared furiously from his office on the ground floor of the clubhouse, unfortunately, with windows that looked straight onto the courtyard. "You know what the kid's doing tonight?"

"Getting information. Probably with Klaus." Giuseppe said shrugging casually as he walked in the door with a crystal tumbler in hand. He flopped onto the leather sofa and stared at his friend in amusement. "Like he does most weekends. Why, you worried about him?" he teased, smirking gleefully as he took a drink.

"Elena was just outside with him. They got here, they argued, he probably convinced her to leave, and now they're gone! She should be here. She should be around people so she doesn't get caught alone and killed! He's going to be out all night doing God knows what, and she's-"

"Gray, when was the last time you spoke to her?"

"Yesterday." He said incredulously. "Don't start that."

"No, you don't start." Giuseppe snapped, pointing angrily at his friend. "Don't kid yourself. You're a stranger to her. I'm a stranger to her. Damon isn't. That's how it is now, and it always will be unless you make an effort to change that."

"Kind of hard when they're always together."

Giuseppe threw his head back in exasperation, rolling his eyes widely and running a hand through his thinning hair. "You're acting like a teenager!" he yelled, standing up abruptly. "If you want Elena here, get her here! Damon has been nothing but a good kid, or be anything other that completely loyal to this club. You've watched him grow up, you used to play football with him when he was a kid and I was busy! He's a good man, stop choosing a daughter you don't know over a man you've known for twenty-five years! A man who _used_ to think of you as a second father!"

"I watched Stefan grow up too!" Grayson yelled finally, gesturing wildly. "And he shot Elena! If you want a fucking reason then that's it!"

"Stefan spent all his time with his mother. When she died he wasn't going to recover from that and run straight out to play football with his brother." Giuseppe said calmly, his voice low and cold and dangerous. "You don't know the half of what makes up my other son. _I_ barely know the man he is today. The Stefan who exists now is no more my family than any traitor is." He took a deep breath and met Grayson's fuming eyes. "But you do know Damon. Think about the birthdays and the Christmases and the holidays you spent with us, because we're _your_ family."

"Elena is my daughter. She's Miranda's daughter." Grayson replied in a rough whisper.

"She's not Miranda." Giuseppe said in a soft voice, comforting his life long friend with a rough hand against his leather clad shoulder. "And Damon isn't you."

Grayson met Giuseppe's eyes, a burning grief shadowed in the chocolate depths, so like his daughter's. "It doesn't matter. It'll only end up the same way give it enough time. The women we fall in love with don't live, Gus. They never had, and they never will. And I'm scared Damon will have to learn that lesson sooner rather than later."

There was a kind of striking symmetry to that. There was nothing but pain and heartache hidden by the guise of a beautiful thing.


	22. Blink

_A/N: How come the later chapters of this story are some of the best I've ever written and the earlier chapters make me cringe when I go back and re-read? Enjoy._

* * *

It took a while to get back to Elena's apartment. Damon was stubborn and utterly infuriating in his roundabout attempts to do anything but leave her alone. He took her to Ric's, threatened to take her to Grayson's and even went as far as to drive straight back to the clubhouse courtyard where they sat in stony silence for at least twenty minutes. But they were here finally, and Elena didn't think she'd ever been so happy to see the place. She threw open the car door and stalked away, furious and amused at the same time. Damon was equally mad, he was resolute on his theory that somehow she would get hurt in the couple hours he'd be gone.

"When the hell did you get furniture in here?" he gaped incredulously, staring around the furnished apartment. It had been barren when they'd left this morning. There were two sofas, end tables, coffee tables, bar stools every goddamned piece of furniture the girl could possibly need. He was slightly nostalgic for the empty comfort he'd grown to like.

"I ordered it online. The landlord let the deliverymen in. I _told_ you that." She sighed irritably, kicking off her shoes.

"Another reason why you shouldn't stay here alone. Did you at least get the key back?"

"Yes, Damon." She said exasperatedly. "Where are you even going later?"

"This place actually looks like an inhabitable home." He said, ignoring her comment and glancing around, taking in the small details of the room. There were small candles around the room as well as a box of matches, a few new looking books in the tragically empty bookshelves. There were plates stacked on the counter, still waiting to be unwrapped, packets of towels, endless storage boxes she'd yet to organize and all those boring things. "When did you even have time to order all this stuff?"

"When you weren't being a dick." She snapped, shrugging out of her jacket and tossing it into the closet by the entrance.

Damon rolled his eyes and glared furiously at her. "And when was that? Because you get mad at me a whole lot, Elena, I don't remember a time when you didn't think I was being a dick!"

"One of the many times you've not been here and nothing bad happened." She said, scowling right back at him. "It's amazing isn't it? That I didn't get hurt sitting on a bed alone all night. I'm surprised there wasn't a shoot out next door!"

"Why are you being so childish?" he groaned, pacing back and forth in frustration. "Why is me wanting you to stay safe so unforgivable?"

"Because you don't get it! I don't want you to think I can't protect myself! I can! I'm not a child Damon; I know how to lock a door. I know how to work a phone. I know how to survive."

Damon ground his teeth together agitatedly. "If you got hurt,"

"I'm not going to get hurt!"

"But you might, for god's sake Elena, you might! Why can't you accept that someone actually cares about you?" he bellowed furiously. "Is it so awful that I want you to be alive and whole and breathing when I come home later?"

Elena faltered slightly. _Home_. He'd said home. "I won't be dead! I haven't even been near being dead! Why do you even care so much? Why do you want me to be okay so badly that you'll go to such extremes?" she paused, the look on Damon's face quieting her rampaging thoughts. "What are you so scared of?" she said lowly, keeping her voice calm, cold and completely and utterly in control.

"When you were in the hospital," he started raggedly, leaning against the kitchen counter and staring at her with burning eyes. "On the first night, Meredith Fell caught me by chance and she told me flat out that you wouldn't last another hour. She told me that you would die. And that was it, I couldn't do a thing." Elena's chest tightened as she opened her mouth to say something. "But you did last that hour, and the next, and the next, but do you know how long it was before she told me you were in the clear?" he whispered, looking away from her intense gaze. "_Eighteen_ _hours_, Elena! And that was only the first time! She told me you would die, so I believed it. For eighteen hours until she came back and told me different." Damon shook his head in disbelief. "And then the day after that, she came back. She told me the odds of you surviving were next to none, regardless of how well you might be recovering."

Elena crossed the room quietly, winding her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. His arms fell around her shoulder, his fingers moving gently across her skin.

"It wasn't a question of 'if' when she told me that. It was 'when' and I was so scared I was going to lose you, scared I'd never see you again and I've never felt so helpless in my entire life."

"But I didn't die." She murmured into his shirt, tightening her arms around him. "I've never been one to give up easily."

"Trust me, I know." He muttered bitterly, a grin playing across his face. She lifted her face and pulled his lips down to meet hers gently.

"I'll call someone." She said finally. He sagged in visible relief. "Then I won't be alone."

"You'll call Caroline, Caroline couldn't fight off a Chihuahua." He said scornfully, pressing his lips to her forehead. "But it's better than nothing."

"Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?" she muttered, shoving him playfully. He just smiled and kissed her again. "Go away. I can't get rid of you, can I?"

He snorted and pushed off the counter. "Not likely. _Please_ try not to get hurt?"

"Well I can't promise anything but I'll try my best." She said cheekily, smirking up at him.

"You're gonna kill me, Elena Gilbert. You're going to absolutely kill me." He sighed, shaking his head as he pressed his lips to her hair once more and sauntered out of the room looking completely and utterly too sinful for his own good.

* * *

"I must say I was surprised to hear from you." Katherine said, strolling into her apartment an hour later or so later. "Especially with Damon acting as your personal bodyguard."

Elena ignored her last words and shrugged idly. "Caroline was busy." She said as an answer, shutting the door behind her.

"Does Damon even know about this?" she asked smirking and collapsing on her new sofa and propping her feet up on the coffee table.

Elena flopped down beside her, shoving her feet off the table. "That was new." She moaned irritably. "And he didn't want me by myself. Something about me getting hurt, danger magnet, doing something stupid, etcetera."

"Damon doesn't like liars, Elena." Katherine pointed out warily, placing her feet purposely back on the coffee table, albeit minus the shoes. Elena let her be.

"You don't know him." She said dismissively, brushing off Katherine's words the same way she's brushed off her apprehension at calling her.

"I know his brother."

"They are nothing alike." Elena spat vehemently, folding her arms across her chest furiously.

"Yes they are!" Katherine cried in disbelief, for once her eyes weren't shrouded with secrets. "They're _identical_ and Stefan hates anything other than the truth and I doubt Damon is much different."

"What makes you think that?" she scoffed, leaning forward to glare at her new friend.

"They're good people." She said quietly, looking down at the wooden floors.

"Stefan is _not_ a good person!" Elena shouted furiously, pointing accusingly at Katherine. "He's sleeping around with a married woman, he betrayed his own family and he fired two bullets into my fucking skin and nearly killed me!"

"He was in love with me long before I married Mason. It took him a long time to forgive me for marrying another man." Elena sneered and looked away. Katherine shrugged coldly. "They were both raised by good people, Elena, and good people don't abide by lies."

"I didn't lie." She insisted. "I just neglected to mention that Caroline is busy tonight to save him rushing back. We'd just fight and yell and scream and I'd say something I'd regret and it would piss me off until he came back again." She sighed miserably. "It's just easier."

"Does he know I'm here?"

"No." she said sighing. "He'd be here already if he did."

Katherine smirked triumphantly. "So if he knew he'd be furious. He doesn't trust me." She was grinning now, clapping her hands together gleefully.

"He's probably right to not trust you. What am _I_ trusting you?" Elena muttered under her breath, ignoring her slightly unnerving display. "What have you ever done that's trustworthy?"

"I didn't tell Mason where you are." She said simply, tucking her feet underneath her and staring at Elena without blinking. She was hard to read, simple as that. You couldn't get a shred of emotions from those closed off eyes, and her face was a mask. She had the kind of face that the devil would take the shape off. Closed off and cold, you wouldn't be able to tell truth from lies if she was whispering in your ear.

She rolled her eyes. "For you own safety. He'd want to know where you got that handy little tidbit of information and then you'd be screwed."

"And I'd lie." Katherine said easily, examining Elena's face carefully. "It's an easy thing to lie to someone who means nothing to you."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No." she replied simply, her eyes never leaving Elena's. She tried, she really did. She tried to not trust her. She tried to find the strength to challenge this girl but deep inside her, in the very depths of her deepest thoughts she knew she was telling the truth.

"Why would you tell me the truth?"

"Because Stefan cares about you, and I care about Stefan." Katherine answered as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Stefan couldn't care less if you handed me over."

"But Damon would."

Elena froze. "They're different people. Don't compare them as if they are anything alike."

"How are they different?" Katherine said, in the same way she'd retorted to all Elena's statement, in that simple no-nonsense way that was starting to grate way too much on her nerves.

"Stefan shot me!"

"Damon killed Finn." Elena stopped her tirade, sinking back into the sofa cushions. "That's what I thought. Stefan tried to take something precious away from Damon, and Damon did the exact same thing to Michael except he succeeded. He killed Michael's brother, even when he has one of his own so he knows what it would be like! They may not be identical but they were raised the same way. Loyalty is only good until it extends so far and turns dangerous. Both of them are loyal. They're both good in their own way. Both fighting for what they believe in and they will stick with that cause until this is all over. They're so loyal, Elena. Loyal enough that Stefan would betray his family, and Damon would nearly kill Stefan to protect you! It's only a matter of who is the right side to be loyal to."

"What if there is no 'right' side?" she pointed out. "Neither side is good, you have to know that. The Vagrants, The Vengeful Souls, it's all just a war isn't it? No one is innocent in a war, Katherine. People die at the hands of another and every war has to have a winner. It's not a matter of being loyal to the right side, because there isn't one, it's about being loyal to who you believe is fighting for the right thing and you know that Mason started this because he wanted what the Vagrants have. The Vagrants retaliated in the only way they could. They protected what they earned and created. Mason can't just come and take what the Vagrants made."

"Mason is Tyler's cousin, you know." Katherine said softly. "The Vagrants told everyone he was dead when they kicked him out the chapter. He started up the Vengeful Souls chapter here in L.A for just that: vengeance. He betrayed his family, let them think he was dead and started and indirectly caused every death in this state related to this goddamned war. Can you really say he's not bad?"

"We're not talking about Mason! We're talking about your absurd theory that Damon and Stefan are anything alike." Elena grumbled irritably.

"I know that, and you know I'm right."

"You're wrong." She snapped persistently, a stony edge in her voice.

"Where is Damon tonight anyway? Sitting at home watching TV?" Katherine scoffed and raised her eyebrows. "No, he's out there, right now, hunting them down all over this damned city and if he catches one? Elena, he'll kill them without blinking."

"He wouldn't." she whispered quietly.

"He would, and so would every man you've met so far: your dad, Giuseppe, Damon, Stefan, Tyler, Matt, Klaus, Michael, Mason; they've all killed someone or tried to and I would bet they did it without second thoughts."

"They aren't murderers." Elena protested, her heart thudding heavily in her chest.

"No." Katherine shrugged and brushed a stray curl away from her face. "But this is a real, Elena. This isn't a film or a storybook tale. People do bad things and people die and people suffer. It doesn't matter what side you're fighting on, ask anyone who is actively involved in this battle; they _will_ have turned a gun on someone and pulled that trigger at some point or another in these past years." Elena stayed silent for a long time after that with Katherine by her side. She spoke quietly after a while. "You had to know."

"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like what you had to say."

"You have to deal with it." She said unfeelingly. "You can't just walk away."

"I can and I will if I need to. All this death and murder," she shook her head in horror. "It just feels like I'm surrounded by it wherever I go and if I have to escape from something like that then I will and none of you can think any worse of me."

"You think you could leave Phoenix?" Katherine said, a hint of respect in her voice.

"I haven't been here long."

Katherine cocked her head to the side, her dark eyes carefully appraising Elena as she spoke. "And Damon?"

Elena's heart clenched in her chest and she let her hair fall forward to cover her face. "If I had to." She said quietly, avoiding Katherine's gaze.

She shook her head in disbelief. "You're lying. You can't escape this place any more than the rest of us can. We're trapped in a war-ridden city and now so are you for the exact same reason."

"I don't have a reason to stay!" she said, lying through her teeth.

"Yes you do! Damon is here and you can't leave him here any more that he can leave you! That's what happens when you meet someone like him, Elena!"

"And that's what exactly?" Elena spat viciously, her eyes burning furiously into Katherine's. "What exactly happens?"

"You have no idea do you? How obvious it is to the rest of us? How easy it is for anyone with half an eyeball to see?" Elena glared at Katherine without saying a word. Katherine shook her head in disbelief. "You'll work it out soon enough. But you're brave; I'll give you that, braver than I was. It took me a long time to take that same risk."

"What are you on about? You're making no sense." Elena exclaimed exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration.

"The Vagrants, Elena! The Vengeful Souls! They're the heart of Phoenix and they're fighting like dogs and killing each other to protect the people they care about! No one fights for themselves, no soldier fights for power, no battle ends because the other side just stops caring. They fight to keep the people they love safe and that's what this whole war is Elena! It's a fight between men who don't care and men who do, all to save those they love. And that's what this all comes down to. That and nothing more."

* * *

"Him." Klaus said suddenly, pointing discreetly at a pair of men standing by the bar in the Warehouse. "Dark hair. Tall. Douchebag sunglasses."

Damon squinted at the men through the darkness, smirking at Klaus' description. "Because of the sunglasses or because you know he's a Vengeful?" he asked in a low voice.

"There's a patch on his jacket. I know exactly who he is." Klaus pointed out softly, jerking his head towards the door. "There's more coming in. We've got to move fast. We've got to move now."

Damon stared at the man's leather jacket, making out the familiar, piss-poor patch of the Vengeful Souls. He scoffed and stood up carefully. "Then I'm getting another drink." He said pointedly, giving his friend a meaningful look.

Klaus nodded shrewdly, standing up as well. "I'll meet you at the bar." He said, glancing back at Damon as he sauntered towards the toilets.

Strolling leisurely towards the bar, Damon skirted around the masses on the dance floor and leant on the old bar top next to their newest prey.

"Another, 'Elijah." He said quietly, looking at his friend carefully, subtly gesturing towards the man sitting to his right. "Not seen you up by the clubhouse lately." Damon said quietly, keeping his eyes on the bartender. The man's head shot up, glancing unquestionably in Damon's direction with suspicion written all over his face. He could feel eyes on his jacket, scanning the patch on his back as the man tried to work out exactly who he was. "Giuseppe is getting touchy." Damon smirked, trying to control his grin as Elijah looked away in amusement.

"Yes, how is your dear father anyway, Damon?" Elijah asked in his smooth accent, smirking lightly as he wiped a glass clean.

The man stood up abruptly, staring Damon down with unforgiving eyes. "Damon Salvatore. It's always a pleasure." He spat viciously, glaring furiously between the two men.

Damon held up his hands in surrender. "Just getting a drink. I don't go mouthing off to you and you're the _exact_ definition of scum in this place. I just tend to avoid people like you."

The man rolled his eyes and snorted. "The Vagrants are done in Phoenix, Salvatore, you're kidding yourself."

Damon glowered at his opponent, stepping closer so he was in his face. "Say that again." He said lowly, his eyes glinting dangerously. "See where is gets you."

Klaus appeared behind the man, his face stony. He clapped a hand vehemently on the man's shoulder. "Now Trevor, you wouldn't want to start something in here would you? All these people…" he dropped his voice, whispering menacingly in Trevor's ear. "Outside. Now. Go quietly or I'll shoot you dead here and now."

Damon grabbed a fistful of Trevor's shirt. He growled, yanking him forcibly towards him. "He's Trevor?" he said loudly, his eyes widening incredulously. Klaus nodded. Damon smirked viciously at the suddenly very small man. "I expected a lot more for someone who's caused me so much trouble."

Trevor swallowed roughly and pulled away from Damon's grasp. "I'll go with you. Get your filthy hands off me." He spat, stalking towards the main door.

Klaus grabbed his shoulder and pulling him back. "Do you think we're stupid?" he laughed humorlessly. "We're going out the back."

Damon shook his head in disdain, looking slightly towards Elijah questioningly. "It's open." He said softly before disappearing to the other end of the bar, smiling pleasantly and pulling orders like nothing more than a regular bartender. Little of the population knew but he was a Vagrant to his blood, loyal right from the beginning. A spy in the midst of civilization, a trusted, almost friendly face that stood behind Phoenix's favorite bar top unquestioned and he listened, oh, he listened and he heard and he told. How reckless people were. How stupid.

Damon led the way towards the shady backdoor behind the Warehouse, leading Trevor into the shadows. Klaus pulled his gun first, the lethal metal object being tossed carelessly between his hands. "Down." He ordered, pressing the barrel against Trevor's shoulders, forcing him to his knees. Their breath created curling tendrils of mist in the unseasonably cold, silent air.

Damon reached into his jacket, pulling his gun out and lifting it slowly and steadily towards Trevor's chest. "Do you know how this works? Or would you like us to explain?" he said pleasantly, his eyes telling an entirely different story. They went from bright, laughing and kind to the cruel, sinister eyes of someone who wouldn't even blink in taking someone's life.

Trevor shook his head scathingly, jutting his chin out defiantly and spitting in Damon's direction. Klaus darted forward again, pressing the cold metal roughly into Trevor's temple. He cringed as the cold metal touched his skin. He leant away ever to slightly; failing to escape the icy metal that now controlled his life.

"Do that again." Klaus whispered darkly, his voice barely making a dent in the silence that had settled over the men in the abandoned lot. "I dare you."

"I know how this works." Trevor said softly. "You threaten me, I tell you what I know, and then you kill me or you recruit me as one of _you_."

"You catch on fast." Klaus quipped cheerfully, pressing his gun harder against his skin. "But you don't have to worry about being recruited as one of us. You've caused a lot of people a lot of pain and we don't take the pain of our loved ones lightly, Trevor. Damon over there is especially eager to fire a bullet into you're skin."

"What do you care?" Trevor snorted, jerking away from Klaus' hand and staring into Damon's eyes. "People mean nothing to you. You're heartless and vicious, you don't have people to care about."

Damon started forward, his hands steady and strong as he pointed at Trevor's chest. "If that's true, why am I going to kill you?"

"Because you're a Vagrant. Vagrants kill." He recited uninterestedly. "It's what you do."

"Vagrants fight." Damon corrected contemptuously, crouching down in front of Trevor's face. "Because we care. So we kill people who hurt the people who are important to us. It's difficult for someone with no one to care about to understand." He snarled harshly, glaring furiously into Trevor's eyes.

"Who's important to you?" Trevor scoffed, smirking darkly. He had the eyes of a man who had nothing, a man who had no one, a man who was beyond living, simply because he had no one to live for. "Damon Salvatore, you don't have anyone to care for. They're all gone."

He paused, his eyes dancing evilly in the faint light that shone through the crack under the door that led back into the bar.

"Your brother switched sides. Stefan Salvatore, younger heir to the Vagrant's most powerful chapter just stepping down and switching to the Vengefuls? Yes, I know about that and I'm about a day away from finding out exactly what drove your brother to the highest level of betrayal." Trevor smirked, carefully watching Damon's jaw clench. "Then there's old Giuseppe, he could croak any day now. Car wreck, roadside bomb, an unsuspecting bullet; anything really." He grinned twistedly, cocking his head to the side. "And what's to say I haven't killed your girl the same way I killed Miranda? Nobody would suspect a thing. People die every day in this town." Damon growled, pushing his gun into Trevor's neck, the cold barrel pressing against the soft underside of his chin. His head tipped backwards. "She could be dead right now." He croaked, grinning wildly. "And you wouldn't even know it." Damon's hand clenched around the trigger, his hands were shaking with fury. "You know she won't last a year in Phoenix, she made a mistake coming here and you made a mistake by letting her stay."

Klaus yanked Trevor into a standing position, pushing Damon away and pressing his own gun against his skin instead. "Go, get out of here. You're going to make a mess of this." He hissed at his friend. "You couldn't aim that thing if you tried." He said, glancing down at Damon's trembling hands. "Leave before you fuck this whole thing up, Damon!"

Damon shrugged off Klaus' restraining hand. "No." he spat, lifting the gun and holding his hand steady with all his might. For the first time, he pulled that trigger and looked into the eyes of a man who was about to die as he fell to the floor, clutching his chest with a face like bone and Damon didn't feel a thing. His aim was off; Trevor's death wasn't instant but the last words that escaped the dying man's throat, a hoarse, rasping sound that screamed as loud of the gunshot pierced Damon's ears.

"Just because _I_ didn't kill her, doesn't mean someone else hasn't."

He shot again, and again, his hands trembling furiously. He sank to the ground, letting his gun slide form his grip as he buried his head in his hands and took deep, wracking breaths. Klaus hauled him up, furiously forcing him towards the main car park where his bike was parked. His heart pounded in his ears, masking Klaus' angry words. He let him push him towards the bike and force his gun back into his hands.

"Go," he ordered furiously. "Before someone comes out." He glowered at his friend and sprinted back to the shadowy lot, talking rapidly into a phone as he went and pounding loudly on the door that led back into the bar shouting incoherently to his brother.

Damon sped away, his hands still shaking violently. With blood on his boots and a loaded weapon in his pocket, the full impact of what he had done hit him like a ton of bricks. It didn't affect him the same way it had every other time he had pulled that very same trigger and the gnawing feeling in his stomach was not one of guilt, but one of fear, as he feared that somewhere along the path he'd become trapped on, he feared he'd somehow lost himself along the way.


	23. Malicious

It must have been hours before Damon managed to drag himself back over to his bike. He'd settled in a shadowy layby leaning against a broken street lamp and staring unseeingly at the desert stretching out for miles in front of him. Eventually the turmoil in his head calmed enough that he could think straight. Trevor was a king of manipulation; he was the one who got any and all information from you before he shot a bullet through your skull. He knew exactly how to screw with a people – that was all. There was no foundation to his last words, the same words that were etched into Damon's mind. He could here them over and over, taunting him viciously and provoking the storm.

However, the sheer lack of base to Trevor's words didn't calm his churning nerves and bone-deep fear that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't okay. He raced through the moonlit roads that were unnervingly devoid of traffic and thanking his lucky stars that there were no speed cameras on this stretch of highway. Somehow his legs carried him right to Elena's door, across the gravel pathway and through the tidy entrance, the familiar sound of his fist pounding on the door sending a fresh wave of fear crashing over him.

Several long seconds passed with aching slowness, each heartbeat echoing in his ears, as that familiar wooden door remained firmly shut. Another second, another heartbeat and another glance at that door was enough to make him crack. His own voice sounded foreign to him as he called her name as calmly as possible. He leant his forehead against the door, starting backwards suddenly when his substitute wall fell away from him leaving an open doorway and an exquisitely beautiful, living, breathing Elena Gilbert in it's place.

Damon let out a visible sigh of relief, closing his eyes for a moment and brushing her hand with one hand for a fraction of a second, as if he was checking she was really there. "Oh thank god." He muttered under his breath, his eyes frantically scanning over her face.

Elena stared at him confused, gently touching his arm. He shook his head slightly and folded her into his arms. "People keep telling me they are going to come and kill you." He moaned burying his face in her hair.

She cracked a smile and pulled away from him guiltily. "No one would dare hurt me. I have a bodyguard." She said slowly, staring at him intently carefully gauging his reaction.

"Glorified Barbie would be less help than a throw pillow." Damon scoffed disdainfully, leaning against the now closed door and folding his arms.

Elena swallowed roughly and looked at him contritely. "I thought we were going to be done with you being mad at me for today." She complained irritably as she looked backward towards the kitchen. Glancing at Damon carefully she gestured with her head for him to follow her.

"Why would I be mad at you?" he questioned suspiciously through narrowed eyes. "Elena?" He glanced around the messy apartment, a slight movement catching his attention and shattering his relief. "You've _got_ to be kidding me!" He cursed loudly, glaring furiously at Elena. "What happened to Blondie? Do you actually want to die, is that was this is? You actually want to die, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be so utterly reckless with your life! This place is supposed to be safe; it's not some place you bring people like _her_! This is the one place that not one Vengeful knew existed. The one place, Elena!"

"Is it time for me to go?" Katherine said smirking, her eyes darkening slightly as she stood up and slipped on her shoes. "Always a pleasure, Damon. I'll tell Stefan you said hello."

"You tell him anything – _anything_ – I will kill you." He told her, his voice low and even and dangerous. "If he turns up here, I will kill him. If he so much as _calls_ me. Is that clear? I swear to god Katherine."

Katherine glanced briefly at Elena, some communication flying between them. She shook her head and glared at Katherine. Katherine shrugged. "Stefan thinks I'm with Mason tonight. That's all he needs to know." She nodded fleetingly to both of them and let herself quietly out of the apartment.

Damon turned to Elena furiously. "Don't say a word." He snapped, the fight leaving his body by the second. He sat down resignedly on the sofa holding his chin in his hands and massaging his temple wearily. "Don't." he repeated quietly, the tension in the room evaporating, leaving the empty room cold and still and unwelcoming. It didn't feel like coming home any more.

"Because that'll happen." She said joining him on the sofa, bringing one knee up to her chest and winding her arms loosely around it.

Damon rolled his eyes wildly and looked at her, his eyes glinting in the dim room. "I just wanted to come home tonight and check you were still breathing. I just wanted to come home to you and kick Blondie out and drag you to bed and just have you near while I told you everything that happened tonight. I wanted to tell you how I nearly shot a man right there in the Warehouse just because of who he was. I wanted to tell you how he taunted me, provoked me. He played on my emotions and it worked, I actually let that lowlife get to me. That doesn't happen to me, it just doesn't but he said all the right things. He knew how to make me crack. I was going to tell you how all those things made me shoot him without a second thought. I wanted to tell you how now I feel like a monster, like someone who isn't me and I wanted to tell you all those things and have you look at me the same way you did this morning."

Damon buried his face in his hands and let out a long shuddering breath. He looked up again, fixing his gaze on her. "And then I was going to leave. No, don't argue with me on this one." He looked at her pointedly, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I was actually going to get up and walk out of that door." He shook his head disbelievingly. "I actually thought I'd be able to do it."

"Don't even think about it." She warned sternly, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Damon chuckled and gently tugged her towards him, resting his chin on her head as she curled up on his chest. "It doesn't matter; you ruined my whole plan by acting like an idiot. "

She smiled lightly and let her eyes drop closed. "I wasn't being an idiot. I like her."

"I don't." he said grumpily, his eyebrows furrowing together.

"I know." Elena sighed, sitting up and winding one arm around Damon's neck. "What happened tonight?"

"I messed up, 'Len. Real bad. I've never seen Klaus so angry. Not to mention my dad will have my head. Grayson will be a thousand times worse, he was the one who got me and Klaus this deal to start with, my dad wasn't up for it but Grayson was all for it." He leant his head back against the arm rest. "I never even wanted this job."

Elena pressed her ear closer to his chest, hearing the steady thump of his heart under the shin layer of his t-shirt. "You killed someone."

"Yes." He said shortly, tensing slightly.

"Did they need to die?"

Damon closed his eyes and sighed deeply, unwinding her arm from around him and placing his own under his head. "I can't talk about this with you."

Elena scowled into his chest. "Why not?"

"Because part of my job is to go and interrogate Vengeful Souls. Sometimes what I believe should happen isn't what I was told to do. Sometimes they need to die, like tonight and sometimes they don't, it's not my call to decide you dies and who doesn't. I had an order, and I ignored it. Either way, I'm not the good guy. I won't sit and talk to you about every man I've killed."

"You are a good guy."

Damon snorted loudly, laughing in disbelief. "Yes, I'm that misunderstood killer that is secretly a good guy under all my issues. I'm that guy."

Elena rolled her eyes and sat up, glaring at him pointedly. "I don't like the fact that you kill people. It's," she shuddered and looked at him oddly. There wasn't disgust or reproach hidden in her chocolate eyes, but something else he couldn't quite put him finger on, a sort of mild acceptance at whatever came out of his mouth, somehow she'd find a way to deal with it. "You've killed people and you'll kill more in the future if you need to. You would do anything for the people you care about."

"And that makes me a good guy?" he scoffed derisively.

"Who did you kill today?" she pressed calmly, looking straight into his cold eyes.

His face hardened immediately. "_He_ deserved to die." He snapped viciously, looking away from Elena's gaze. He sighed deeply. "This is why I'm bad. God, I shouldn't be with you. I'm glad I killed a man. I've never been glad to be a murderer." He swallowed and looked hesitantly towards her. She didn't flinch. "He nearly killed you." Her eyes widened as she stared at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. "Trevor." He clarified quietly, staring unblinkingly at a patch of wall. "He started the fire."

"Why are you so cut up about this?" she asked hesitantly.

"I killed a man."

"He _deserved_ to die."

"Then he should have been hit by a bus or struck my lightning or _something_. Anything. A sheer fluke should have taken his life, not me. Never me. I _hate_ this." He cursed, shaking his head back and forth repeatedly. "I don't care that he's dead. I don't care that I killed him! I'm no good for you! How can you stand to be around me? I've killed people, real people with families and people who love them!"

Elena shifted closer to him again, her feet resting under his thigh as she leant her head on top of her folded knees. "People love you too." She murmured softly, leaning her ear on her crossed arms, powering on before he could turn those eyes on her. "They've killed people too. No one wants blood on their hands, no one wants that on their conscience but this is just the life you live. Everyone you care about knows that, they won't think less of you for protecting something you've grown up within. They won't see you differently for killing someone who threatened the people you're loyal too."

He looked at her evenly, turning his body to face her with eyes so sad. "I don't care how they see me. I care how _you_ see me. You didn't grow up with this, you didn't have it slowly hammered into you from the time you could understand what this club did. You haven't grown up knowing that one day you'd be a killer." He trailed off looking distraught. "I _only_ care how you see me. That's all I care about."

She stared at him, her heart beating loudly in her chest. "You shouldn't care so much."

His eyes closed off immediately. "Of course not."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't let people care about you, Elena. That's fine. Every time I open up to you and say something that actually lets you know how I feel about you, you bolt. That is also fine. Just don't expect me to sit around and wait for you to be ready to let me care about you."

"_I_ bolt?" she scoffed, glaring at him. "I have never walked out on you. Not once."

"Are we really doing this? You being involved with me adds a huge goddamned bull's eye to your back! If I don't walk, you're a target, if I do walk, you're still a target expect I have no way to protect you!"

"So why do you walk?" she cried exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in the air as she stood up and backed away from the sofa. "No matter where I am I'm in danger! You know that, you just said so! You just make everything a whole lot more complicated because I have to live with the fact that you're now in danger too and I can't even breath without thinking you'll go running!"

"I'm not going to run!"

"You already have! You run like the damn hounds of hell are after you whenever something happens to me!"

"Why can't you let people care about you?" he said loudly, standing up too and clasping his hands behind his head.

"Because everyone I care about is dead or dancing along the line like this whole situation is okay! They are in danger because of me! All because I was born! My mom left my dad because of me! Grayson sent the one woman he's ever loved out of state because of me and then she died because of me! You think people just get over that? They don't! He can barely look at me because I look like her! My own father can't bear to set eyes on me because my existence in the reason his wife is dead. Everybody around me is hurt because I'm around, the people I care about never live to one hundred and ten. And the worst part? They are going to hurt _you_ because of me and you're so intent on keeping me safe you won't be able to see it!"

Damon took a deep breath. "I'm not fighting with you. All we do is fight. I won't fight with you." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts together. Damon moved closer to her and reluctantly wound her arms around her and let her head fall between his shoulder blades. "It'll be okay." He told her, rubbing small circles over the small of her back and pulling away.

"Yeah, once we're all dead and there's no one left to fight back." She said darkly as she stormed over to her closet and pulled her shorts and shirt off, replacing them with a loose t-shirt that fell to the middle of her thighs.

Damon scowled at her witheringly. "Once Mason Lockwood is dead and the Vengefuls fall apart."

"There's always going to be someone ready to replace him. Michael could. There's always going to be a war in Phoenix." She flopped onto the bad and threw one of the pillows over her face with a weary sigh.

"Mason controls the Vengeful Souls with threats and bribes." Damon explained as he lay down next to her, snatching the pillow from her face and placing it under his head. Elena frowned at him and propped herself up on one elbow. "He feeds off their terror, their fear – he uses it against them. The Vengefuls have no loyalty. They have no sense of family. When Mason falls, Michael will try to step up but he has secrets that half of that club has unearthed. He commands no respect, the second he isn't under Mason's protection he'll be dead within a week. The Vengefuls _will_ crumble. It's a war that we'll win. We've done it before."

Elena made a questioning noise and rolled over so she was lying on her stomach. "Phoenix is Vagrant territory, it always has been. This is where we started. This is where we were born. It happened before, back in the eighties. It was another club, another war, but it was the Vagrants and a club called the Malicious."

"Charming." Elena said with a small smile.

Damon nudged her playfully. "The Malicious were the original Vengefuls, the start of this war. Another Lockwood, I don't remember which, decided that Phoenix needed taking and they moved in and it was one of the bloodiest club wars in our history…in any history. There was conflict everywhere, inside the Vagrants and out."

"And you won?"

"Obviously." Damon said dryly. "We've done it before, we can do it again. We're still standing, even after all these years. My dad and Grayson were part of that war they know how to fight for what they built."

"Why do you fight so hard?"

"It's where we started. It's home. It's always been our home." Damon said simply, his eyes closed with one hand clasped under his head again.

In the soft light underneath the new moon and the inky night, Damon finally rolled over and kissed her neck softly, trailing his lips across her jaw as his hands snaked to her waist and pulled her tight against him. "Are we done fighting?" he murmured enticingly against her skin, pausing in his movements.

"We'll be done fighting when you stop trying to protect me."

He glowered at her. "This argument is circular."

Elena looked at him softly, pushing him gently to the bed and straddling his hips as she captured his lips stubbornly. "Stop. Complaining." She ordered in between kisses, smiling against his lips.

Damon sat up smirking, his eyes glinting roguishly as he pressed her body tightly against his as he kissed her feverishly, his hands knotting in her long hair as her nails teased the skin at the base of his neck. She kissed him back, succumbing to his skilled lips and electrifying touch and letting him press her firmly against the mattress as his lips trailed a hot path across her skin. He set her on fire, burning furiously under his practiced touch. And how she burned, hot and slow as he set her alight in the captivating stillness of the darkened room.

* * *

Klaus stormed furiously into the clubhouse with his brother on his tail. It was dark, the moon offering little light to the darkened halls of this place. He stalked the halls, checking Giuseppe's first and finding it empty before grabbing a sleepy guard by the shirt and pulling his furiously towards him. He glared at the man's now awake brown eyes that were wracked with a new fear.

"Where is Giuseppe?" he asked slowly and distinctly, his eyes glinting furiously.

"Grayson's wing. In the office last I heard." The man forced out, his hands shaking violently as he pointing vaguely down the hall.

Elijah punched his brother's arm. "Let's go." He urged. "I don't have much time. Nick, _now_."

Klaus dropped his hand and backed away from the guard, jogging steadily towards the wing the club deemed Grayson's. He burst into the office, cursing as he found it empty and growing more and more agitated as he stubbornly checked the connecting rooms.

"Giuseppe." He said loudly when he finally found them in a warm, smoky room with a low-burning fire, his voice angry and cold and utterly unlike himself. He glared between the two men; sitting opposite each other in deep-set leather armchairs with crystal glasses in their hands and laughter still dying on their faces. "We need to talk about Damon."


End file.
